


I Married A Witch

by notarelationship (justpracticing)



Series: Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6717319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justpracticing/pseuds/notarelationship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a whirlwind romance and an unexpected wedding, junior Vogue editor Kurt Hummel discovers some surprising things about his new husband, schoolteacher Blaine Anderson.  Can these crazy kids make it work?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt that started "Bewitched! With Blaine as Samantha!"
> 
> I ran with it and love it so much there will definitely be more after this 'pilot' entry.
> 
> If you've never seen Bewitched and are interested, it looks like both YouTube and Daily Motion have some episodes up, including the pilot, that this is loosely based on. 
> 
> Chapter 2 should be up within the week.

Once upon a time there was a typical, red blooded American boy, who happened to bump into another typical American boy…. and he bumped into him, and bumped into him and bumped into him. So they decided they’d better sit down and talk about this before they had an accident. They became good friends (rather quickly). They found they had a lot of interests in common. Music (and sex). Fashion (and sex). Movies (and sex). And when the first boy found the second boy attractive, desirable, irresistible, he did what any red-blooded American boy would do. He asked him to marry him (sort of). They had an atypical wedding. And a (slightly) more typical wedding night. Except for one thing….

But we should probably start at the beginning.

\--

Blaine Anderson loves his life. He loves being a kindergarten teacher. He loves biking to work and he loves his tiny garden apartment in Carroll Gardens. He really loves giving music lessons to kids after school and on weekends. Sure, he’d love it more if his parents approved of any of the choices he’d made, but each one had been apparently more disappointing to them than the last. But that was okay. When he was growing up all Blaine wanted was a nice, quiet life, where he was helping people more often than he was not, and that’s what he has. 

Kurt Hummel isn’t really sure about his new apartment, commuting to work, or Brooklyn in general. A colleague at Vogue had connected him with a realtor friend who knew of a real sweetheart deal in a new condo just built in Carroll Gardens; _“Right off the F train—30 minutes to work and you get out of the rat race of Manhattan,”_ Jeff had said. So far though, all Kurt feels is disconnected from civilization. And he still hasn’t been able to figure out which nights of the week the F train stops running at eleven, or if there is even a schedule. 

One spring morning shortly after moving in Kurt goes down the wrong subway entrance, on the Brooklyn-bound side instead of towards Manhattan and his office. By the time he realizes his mistake he’s already watched two trains pass on their way to Manhattan and he is cursing the day he decided to move to Brooklyn. Kurt hitches up his shoulder bag and resettles the bag of samples he has to return to the office. He thinks he has nine minutes before the next train comes, but he knows that subway schedules are more fantasy than reality (and there might be a G train in between? He’s still not sure) but he really doesn’t want to risk it. Kurt rushes up the stairs, crossing his fingers.

Coincidentally, on the same spring morning that Kurt almost takes the train to Coney Island instead of Times Square, Blaine’s bicycle is in the repair shop. Blaine likes to ride his bike to school, weather permitting, it’s not too far, there isn’t too much traffic, and cycling up the incline that is 9th Street has been really good for his butt. But today he has to take the F train to work. It’s only a few stops from home to his school in Park Slope—but he indulges himself anyway and stops at the good coffee shop on the corner to get something to sip on the ride. Blaine stands at the top of the stairs, sipping some of his coffee so it doesn’t slosh around and spill all over him or someone else during the ride. When he thinks it’s safe, he tugs at the lid to make sure it’s secure and takes two steps down the stairs when Kurt Hummel, with his head down, not looking at all where he is going, runs smack into him, knocking Blaine’s coffee all over the front of Blaine’s shirt and the tops of Blaine’s shoes. 

“Oh my god! I am so, _so,_ sorry!” Kurt exclaims. “This is totally my fault-– _shit_ —I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Kurt digs in his bag and pulls out a fist full of Starbucks napkins and starts dabbing at Blaine’s shirt. “Oh god that is not good. I should get some club soda on that or something right away.” Kurt spins around in a directionless circle, looking for a corner grocery.

“It’s okay, really,” Blaine says, putting his hand on Kurt’s arm to stop him from spinning. It probably shouldn’t be okay, and another person might be slightly more irritated, but the man, Kurt, is so sincerely sorry. Besides, he had given himself enough time to get to work. He wouldn’t be late. “There’s no harm done, really. I’m sure my, um, dry cleaner can get it out.” Blaine takes the napkins from Kurt and wipes his hands.

Kurt blinks, finally noticing that Blaine is _cute_. “Well then you’ll have to give me his number,” Kurt says, flirtier than the situation calls for. He’ll be embarrassed about it later. “I just moved to the neighborhood and I could really use a good dry cleaner.” 

Blaine freezes for a long second. “Yeah, um.” He looks over Kurt’s shoulder to the block of businesses across the street. “I use Green Cleaners, across the street there.” Blaine nods in the direction he was looking. Kurt turns to look. 

“And they’re good?”

Blaine wiggles his shoulders in a half shrug. “My clothes are clean.” He looks down at what he’s wearing. Blaine had thought he looked pretty good this morning too. He had put on his favorite mustard pants and a coral polo shirt that he loved. At least the spill had missed his bow tie. “Well, they _were_ , but-”

“Oh god.” Kurt remembers why they are standing there, and he looks Blaine over from head to toe, evaluating…something. “Here,” he says, fumbling around in his sample bag until he pulls out a shirt. “Here, please take this. It should fit you.” He rakes his eyes across Blaine’s shoulders once more. “I hope.” 

Blaine puts up his hand but blushes a little because Kurt is still looking at him. “That’s not necessary. I can get a t-shirt at work or something.”

“Please, I insist. A t-shirt would ruin your look.” Kurt shakes the shirt in the air. “It’s Marc Jacobs?”

Blaine laughs and accepts the shirt. “Ooh, that will be a first for me. I’ve never worn any Marc Jacobs.”

Kurt takes what he thinks is a small risk and curves his mouth into a small smile. “I’m sure it will look great on you.”

Blaine blushes again, momentarily not sure how to answer. He clears his throat. 

“Wow, um. Okay then. Maybe I should get your name and number?” He sees Kurt’s eyes go wide, and maybe interested? Not that Blaine would be opposed to that, but he still thinks he should clarify. “So I can return this.” He waves the shirt, but catches Kurt’s slight disappointment as he nods. “Oh, and--” Blaine shuffles the shirt into his left hand and offers Kurt his right. “My name is Blaine. Blaine Anderson.” 

Kurt shakes Blaine’s hand. “Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine takes Kurt’s number, promising to call him to return the shirt, and waves goodbye as he disappears down the stairs and into the station. 

Kurt watches him go, perfectly willing to admit to himself that he’s admiring the way Blaine’s ass fills the seat of his well-fitted trousers. 

“Maybe Brooklyn won’t be so bad.”

\--

By the time Kurt gets back to Brooklyn later that night he’s fighting a headache caused by late ad copy delivery and his stomach is growling from not enough food and too much coffee. All he wants is a bowl of Pad Thai and a bath. Sadly he hasn’t had time to investigate where in the neighborhood a good Thai restaurant might be, so he stops in at the tiny grocery store on the corner—the one with the high shelves and the surprisingly good produce section—hoping he can pick up some pre-cut veggies for a quick stir-fry.

Kurt finds what he’s looking for quickly and is taking a quick walk through the aisles in case he sees some other thing he might need. He turns down the cleaning supplies aisle and sees a person reaching for something on the top shelf that is just out of reach. This person, Kurt notices, has a very nice ass, and his eyes naturally _(naturally)_ follow down to some nicely flexed thighs. Kurt blinks and realizes the pants look familiar, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s Blaine from this morning. Blaine who has a very nice ass attached to some equally nice thighs. Blaine who he dumped a whole cup of coffee on. Kurt also thinks maybe it’s been awhile since he’s been on a date and he should just get a grip on himself. Possibly literally.

While Kurt is following this train of thought, Blaine drops to his heels, looking first down the aisle toward the registers before turning his head in Kurt’s direction. He squints for the moment it takes him to recognize that the man standing at the end of the aisle looking at him is Kurt from this morning. Very nicely dressed Kurt with the great hair and the pretty voice and who spilled coffee all over his shirt. 

“Kurt?”

“Hi.” Kurt flips a short wave. “Fancy meeting you here,” Kurt says, groaning internally as he does it.

Blaine smiles. “Well I do live in the neighborhood.” He notices Kurt looking at his shirt with a puzzled expression. 

“Your shirt’s clean?” He asks. “That’s some dry cleaner.”

Blaine swallows and shakes his head. “No, I—I’m a kindergarten teacher, and we actually have a washing machine in our classroom for emergencies.” He coughs. “And one of the other teachers is a stain magician. She went to work on it right away when I got in.” Blaine is nodding and talking with his hands the whole time. Kurt can’t stop smiling at him.

“Did, you need--?” He indicates to the top shelf. Blaine isn’t that short, but Kurt does have a couple of inches on him and could probably reach.

“Oh.” Blaine looks to the shelf. “Right. I can’t, um, reach the paper towels.” Blaine makes an embarrassed grimace, and Kurt thinks the pink on his cheeks makes him look even cuter. As if that were possible. 

“I think I can—“ Kurt reaches for the package, leaning closer to Blaine than maybe is necessary, but for some reason Kurt wants to get closer. He hears Blaine’s breath hitch when Kurt’s shoulder brushes his chest. “Here you go.” Kurt hands him the paper towels.

Blaine adds it to his basket, thanking Kurt and waving goodbye as he heads for the front counter to check out. He’s nearly out the door when he remembers he still has Kurt’s shirt, so he waits outside in front of the store. He doesn’t want to startle Kurt when he comes out.

Kurt doesn’t miss him, though, and takes a few steps closer.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s stomach flips over. Blaine is a very good-looking guy, and Kurt is definitely feeling more than a slight attraction. He hopes the fact that Blaine is standing out here waiting for him might mean that Blaine is feeling the same way.

“I’m really sorry,” he starts apologizing, but when Kurt looks puzzled he digs into his bag and pulls out the shirt Kurt had loaned him that morning. “Thank you so much for this.”

Kurt tries to hide the disappointment on his face as he takes the shirt, which doesn’t look like it’s even been worn. But then again, Blaine is wearing his own shirt, so maybe he didn’t have to wear Kurt’s very long. He was hoping that Blaine would call him and they’d have a reason to see each other again. Kurt fusses with the shirt while he convinces himself he should say something before Blaine walks away and he loses him forever.

“I hope you don’t think this is too weird, but if you still wanted to call me some time, that would be okay.” Kurt shrugs, his eyebrows crawling to his hairline in his most hopeful look.

Blaine looks at him, his eyes not darting all over for a change, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

All Kurt can think in that moment is that he really needs to bite Blaine’s bottom lip, so when he tells Blaine no, he would not mind at all, he’s embarrassed at how breathy his voice sounds.

But Blaine’s smile gets bigger. “Okay. I will.”

And for the second time that day Kurt admires the view as he watches Blaine walk away from him.

\--

Blaine finally gets his bike out of the shop and is taking a weekend ride into Dumbo to stop at his favorite bookstore before it closes for good. He’s biking up Clinton Street, miraculously making all the lights and managing traffic when the inevitable pedestrian steps out into the bike lane, not paying attention to where he is standing. Blaine always considers three options in this situation--because this is hardly the first time it has happened.

He can shift into the traffic lane, and usually does, but there is a line of cars to his left at the moment that make that option impossible. He can shout at the pedestrian to let him know he’s coming through, but even from here he can tell this guy is wearing earbuds and is not likely to hear him yelling. These options take seconds to consider and reject, but before he can get to option number three he realizes that he knows the guy standing in his lane. It’s Kurt, the cute guy he ran into the other day at the subway and again at the supermarket. He decides on option four and brings his bike to a stop right when he reaches Kurt.

Kurt’s expression goes from shock to annoyance to recognition in under 3.5 seconds and he yanks his earbuds out as Blaine shifts to stand on one leg straddling his bike.

“Blaine?” 

“Hi,” Blaine says, a little breathless from the ride, but Kurt looks amazing right now so maybe a little from that too. He hopes his Brooklyn biker chic isn’t too off-putting. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Kurt laughs awkwardly and actually blushes, and Blaine has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “I was, um, exploring the neighborhood, I still feel like such a stranger around here.” When Blaine just nods Kurt goes on. “I’m supposed to meet a friend for lunch at some diner around here.” Then, “I like your helmet.”

Now it’s Blaine’s turn to blush, and he can feel himself turning red. He shrugs. “Safety first.” Blaine is having a hard time not squirming under Kurt’s gaze. It’s definitely--appraising. “And speaking of, you should be careful when you step out into the street. I actually almost ran into you before I realized it was you.”

Kurt’s expression changes to shock at that point, and Blaine relaxes a little, feeling a little less under scrutiny. “Oh my god, I am so sorry _again_! You must think I’m some kind of obliviously obnoxious New York pedestrian.” He laughs either at or to himself, then says, barely loud enough for Blaine to hear, “No wonder you haven’t called me.”

“Oh, um, no,” Blaine stutters. “I thought you were just being polite.”

“Not being polite,” Kurt says, eyes darting around Blaine’s face now.

Blaine bites his lip again and this time he can see Kurt’s breathing stutter when he does. “Okay.”

\--

They meet for a drink on the next Friday. Blaine takes Kurt to a place on Court Street because the bars on Smith are crazy on the weekend and it’s too hard to have a conversation. After two drinks they both decide that dinner is a great idea, so they opt for a quiet sushi place instead of one of the crowded Italian or hip hybrid southern food places that are all over the neighborhood now. 

Blaine tells Kurt about how he started teaching kindergarten about five years ago, and how lucky he was to get a job in such a great school and to find a nice garden apartment so close to a convenient subway, even though he rides his bike to work every day the weather is cooperative. Kurt tells Blaine about how he started at Vogue as an intern, but worked his way up to editorial style in a pretty short time, making a couple of enemies along the way. Kurt tells him that what he really wants to do is design, but he’s worried he doesn’t have the right formal training and he’s not sure he’s ready to go back to school just yet. 

Kurt spends much of the evening thinking that the red sweater Blaine is wearing might be the most flattering thing he’s ever seen on another man, and wondering if Blaine would mind if he untied his bow tie and licked across his Adam’s apple. Blaine spends the same amount of time wondering exactly what color Kurt’s eyes are really, and admiring the cut of the vest Kurt is wearing and wondering whether Kurt’s ears would turn pink if he kissed across his jaw. Or what he tastes like in the crease where his thigh meets his hip.

Blaine walks him home, since he knows the neighborhood and he doesn’t want Kurt to get lost, he tells him. Kurt swears he won’t get lost, but he doesn’t let go of Blaine’s hand. Kurt’s building is one of the new developments, with a double-wide glass door entrance. It’s well lit with a doorman. Blaine isn’t sure they were on a date, but it felt like it might have been, and he wants to do something to let Kurt know he’s interested without making a terrible fool out of himself. He’s had mostly not great luck lately with guys. When they get close to Kurt’s apartment Blaine pulls him into the shadows, and leans in to kiss him on the cheek.

Kurt knows what he wants, and has been thinking about it all week. He turns enough to catch the corner of Blaine’s mouth, since he’s not exactly sure if Blaine feels the same, but he’ll take the risk. They both pull back for a moment, Blaine’s hand still wrapped around Kurt’s bicep. A visible shudder runs through Blaine and he blinks and kisses Kurt quickly on the mouth with a soft smacking noise. That’s all the confirmation Kurt needs, and he cradles Blaine’s face in his hands and kisses him harder, intent only on the kissing until Blaine shifts slightly into his personal space, his arms wrapping around Kurt’s waist and up as his body curves into Kurt’s. They don’t kiss for long, a minute, two, and Blaine pulls away, breathing hard.

“So it's not just me.”

Kurt shakes his head against Blaine’s temple. “Uh, no.” He nips at Blaine’s lip, takes the next risk. “Do you, um, want to come up?”

Blaine leans in, kissing Kurt again. “Uh huh.”

\--

“Oh god, Kurt!”

“ _Fuck_ , Blaine, _god_ , I’m so close.” He reaches for Blaine’s cock, but Blaine stops him before Kurt can wrap his sweaty hand around it.

“No, ow, cramp!”

Kurt slows his thrusts but doesn’t pull out. He doesn’t really want to. “Wha--?”

Blaine wriggles underneath Kurt, reaching for his right calf; his right ankle is hooked over Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Can you rub it?”

Kurt tries to be sympathetic and reaches for Blaine’s leg, taking the opportunity presented to thrust into him a little harder. “I was trying to,” he pants, grinning. 

Blaine huffs out a laugh, waving a hand at his leg where Kurt has carefully bent it at the knee and is kneading Blaine’s calf with both hands, his fingers digging on to the muscle. Kurt grinds his cock deeper into Blaine at the same time, and Blaine gasps and hitches his ass up, clenching around Kurt’s cock.

“God Kurt, your fingers are amazing.”

Kurt lets out a breathy chuckle and nips at Blaine’s ankle. “You may have mentioned that earlier.” He grinds a little more, and Blaine’s ass spreads against Kurt’s pelvis. Kurt can’t help but groan a little and Blaine spreads his thighs wider. Kurt grabs more lube, pulling out far enough to pour too much over his cock and Blaine’s ass and then he hooks his forearms under Blaine’s knees, holds him up and starts fucking into him again.

If Kurt thought Blaine was adorable, bow-tied and bashful over dinner, then laid out naked on Kurt’s bed he’s _stunning_. It doesn’t take Kurt long to get back to the edge, but he waits, watching Blaine as his back arches, mouth open, eyes closed, fisting his cock until he comes in spurts across his stomach and his chest and his hand. Kurt fucks him through it until he just can’t and his hips stutter and he moans and comes and collapses on Blaine, and _oh god_ , Kurt hopes he never has another opportunity to sleep with someone on the first date.

They lie there for a few moments, or longer, neither of them really sure, just breathing and touching and wondering what comes next until Kurt mumbles something about getting up in a second to clean them up. Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt’s back, holding on with a muffled _“No rush”_ mouthed against his shoulder. But Kurt does get up and comes back with a wet washcloth and a glass of water that they share, and in no time they are rewrapped in each other’s arms, half asleep under a sheet in Kurt’s bed.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” Kurt asks in the quiet.

“Right now?” Blaine is smiling at Kurt when he smacks him weakly on his shoulder. Blaine just wriggles closer. “I have a piano lesson at 10:30.”

“You take piano lessons?” Kurt is drawing circles on Blaine’s bicep with one finger. 

Blaine just shakes his head, still smiling. “I teach piano lessons.”

“Really?”

Blaine nods. “Really. I don’t usually have lessons on the weekend unless someone needs to make up a session. Tomorrow is a makeup class. I also teach guitar. To kids.”

Kurt pushes himself up on one elbow. “You are a kindergarten teacher who also gives piano lessons?”

“And guitar.” Blaine wriggles around until he is facing Kurt, propped up on his elbow just like Kurt. “Is that a problem?” Blaine is smirking, but he doesn’t really know Kurt, so he really isn’t sure what the answer will be.

Kurt shakes his head, leans forward and places a lingering kiss on Blaine’s mouth. “It’s perfect, really.” 

Blaine is almost asleep when Kurt nuzzles into the back of his neck. “Blaine?”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m really glad I spilled my coffee on you.”

\--

On their next date they wind up at Blaine’s apartment for a movie night, but halfway through the movie they are kissing and Kurt can’t stop tugging at Blaine’s clothes and before they can get to the bedroom Kurt has Blaine pushed up against the wall and is tugging at his belt and his zipper, and Blaine is not at all trying to stop him from swallowing his dick until he comes in Kurt’s mouth.

When they finally make it to bed, both dozing and near sleep, something jumps on the bed and Kurt bolts upright, heart racing. “What the _hell?_ ”

Blaine rolls over without even looking. “Oh, Kurt--meet Salem.”

Kurt rubs his hand over his face and watches a fat white cat with glowing, mismatched eyes make itself comfortable between their feet. “You have a cat?” 

“Mmm hmmm.” Blaine is barely awake, so Kurt resettles and tucks himself against Blaine’s back. 

“Salem? Big fan of _Sabrina the Teenage Witch_ , are we?”

Blaine’s breathing is even and Kurt thinks he must be asleep when he doesn’t answer for a few minutes. By the time Blaine mumbles “sure, that works,” Kurt is too near sleep to respond.

\-- --

This goes on for a few weeks—a night at Kurt’s and two at Blaine’s. Monday night at Blaine’s because he has a lesson in the afternoon and then two nights at Kurt’s because he doesn’t.

Kurt decides that he likes Blaine’s apartment more than his own (because the tiles are already coming off in his bathroom and there is a leak in the kitchen and there is a crack in the floor in the entryway and _oh my god_ he will never buy an apartment in a new construction building again). Kurt likes when Blaine texts him to let him know where the extra key is (because he puts it in a different place each time) and he likes letting himself in when Blaine is giving a lesson, waving at him as he walks by on his way in. Kurt likes cooking at Blaine’s place because he has every weird kitchen gadget Kurt has ever wanted to try out, even though Blaine swears he doesn’t cook often and he’s not good at it, and he really likes the way Blaine’s body fits so perfectly against his. Kurt knows that he’s falling in love with Blaine, but also knows it’s probably too soon to say so.

For his part, Blaine can’t get enough of Kurt either. He’s amazed every time Kurt offers to come over to cook for him, even though Kurt gets off work later than he does, and he’s grateful that Kurt feels so at home in his tiny apartment. He is surprised one evening when, after staying late for a student performance, he comes home to a plate of cookies Kurt had baked and left on the counter with a note. (He was less surprised to find Kurt already naked in his bed the same night.) He likes when Kurt stops his morning routine to tie Blaine’s tie for him just because he wants to be close to him before they leave for work. 

One day one of Blaine’s favorite students, a tiny boy with huge brown eyes and shaggy hair, shows up at school with suspicious bruises and a cut on his lip. Blaine reports it and the school calls the police, and Blaine has to stay to give a police report. When Blaine comes home late that night, near tears, Kurt makes him tea and feeds him cheese and crackers and holds him while he cries. 

Kurt is up for a promotion, and while he doesn’t think he’ll get it—his competition has been there longer and is a bit savvier at office politics, he still wants it. Blaine has parent teacher conferences on the night he finds out that he didn’t get it, so he shoots Blaine a text letting him know he’s going out for a drink.

_I didn’t get the promotion. Going to drown in wine_

Blaine curses quietly, out of earshot of any children or parents, and fifteen minutes later manages to sneak into the stairwell to call Kurt.

“Blaine?” Kurt answers.

“Hi Kurt, I’m so sorry you didn’t get the promotion.”

Kurt sniffs on the other end of the line, half shouting into the phone. “It’s okay. It was a long shot. I’m still young right?”

“Are you in a bar?” Blaine can hear the noise in the background.

“Yeah, a couple of the guys took me out.” Blaine holds in a twinge of jealousy. He’s sure one of them is Kurt’s co-worker Sebastian. Blaine hasn’t met him but from what Kurt has mentioned he can tell Sebastian is interested in Kurt. And he’s only been seeing Kurt a month—yes they spend a lot of their time together, and they haven’t really talked about where they stand on this being a long term thing. Blaine knows he wants a long-term thing with Kurt, and he can’t stop himself from being jealous. “It’s not really fun,” Kurt says.

“I have about an hour left here. Do you want to go to my place? You could get in the bath and wait for me or just crawl into bed—whatever you want.” Blaine holds his breath. He wants Kurt to say yes.

“Oh god yes. Please can I do that?” Blaine swallows down a squeal at how excited Kurt sounds. 

“Yeah, yes. Definitely. The key is under the stone frog.” 

\--

"M’wsh y’comf me," Kurt mumbles against Blaine's neck. 

Blaine had relaxed Kurt until he just couldn't relax him any more and they are tangled together in Blaine's bed. More often than Blaine, Kurt will pass out after sex, but he was especially muzzy when they threw in a bath too. 

"Hmmm?" Blaine giggles, carding his fingers through Kurt's hair.

"It would be more fun if you were there with me. In Las Vegas." Kurt nuzzles into Blaine's neck, wrapping himself tighter against him. Kurt has a two day advertisers presentation in Las Vegas at the end of the week and neither of them are looking forward to the separation.

"Teachers don't really get to take time off like that, babe." Blaine kisses Kurt's forehead. "Tho’ it does sound like fun."

"Not without you. Not fun." Kurt wriggles away, propping himself up on his elbow. "Maybe you could come Friday after work? I'll change my flight and the hotel and we can just hit a crazy Vegas weekend and I can forget about all this stupid work nonsense and start fresh on Monday."

Blaine twists his mouth up thoughtfully. He had been hoping to have a romantic weekend with Kurt, one where he told him what an important part of Blaine’s life he had become, and how he hoped Kurt felt the same way, and that while he knew they hadn't been seeing each other that long he was pretty sure Kurt was the one. And while it’s still much too early to discuss moving in together, he wants to at least put that option on the table as they move forward. He wants Kurt to know he’s committed to them.

But with the work disappointment so fresh it might make sense just to have a fun party weekend instead. Romance could wait another week.

"Okay," Blaine says, grinning into a kiss. "If I can get a flight I'll come out."

"Please, there is a flight to Vegas from New York every twenty seven minutes." Kurt sits up then, pressing a warm hand against Blaine's stomach. "We can go out for a nice dinner and I’ll get tickets to a late show. Something cheesy and totally Vegas!"

"Can we see a magic show?" Blaine asks.

"Oh my god yes! Maybe Penn & Teller--" 

Blaine makes a face, shaking his head. "Too scary."

"Okay,” Kurt says, dropping a kiss on Blaine’s mouth. “I'll find something fun."

\--

Blaine is standing in the overcrowded waiting area, watching the scheduled departure time for his flight get pushed later and later. Apparently a strange tornado occurrence near Philadelphia is causing late flights and rerouting everywhere. At this rate he might not get to Las Vegas before morning, and he really doesn't want to disappoint Kurt.

After deciding he can wait another hour, Blaine finds a seat across the wide aisle, next to a woman who has been wrangling three small children throughout the delay. She definitely looks like she could use some help.

The oldest, a boy who looks like he’s six or seven, looks at Blaine suspiciously. 

“What’s your name?” He asks. “Mine’s Asher.”

“My name is Blaine.” Blaine sticks out his hand for the boy to shake it, which he does.

“Oh honey, leave the poor man alone,” his mother interrupts, giving Blaine an apologetic look. 

“Oh I don’t mind,” Blaine smiles his calmest parent smile. “I’m actually a kindergarten teacher, so I deal with kids all day.”

The mom laughs. “Then I can’t imagine you’d want to deal with them during a two hour airport delay.” She jiggles the baby on her lap.

“Honestly? You look like you could use a little help, and we’re going to be stuck here for a while.” When the mom gives him a wary look Blaine shrugs and pats at the pockets of his jacket. “Here,” he says. “This is my school ID, and here is my driver’s license. I really am a teacher. In Brooklyn.” He smiles again. Experience has taught him that he can charm most people. Luckily for most people, Blaine is genuinely interested in helping.

The mom seems mollified by his identification. Blaine, eager to help, opens his carry-on and looks inside at the two pairs of pants, extra underwear and shirts.

“Superheroes or trucks?” he asks Asher. 

“Superheroes!” 

Blaine blinks into his bag a few times before reaching into his carry-on and pulling out a superhero themed sticker book and handing it to Asher. “Occupational hazard,” he offers the mom, by way of explanation. Later he shows the boy how to make a flip-book out of a stack of sticky notes, and stays with the younger kids when mom has to take the baby into the bathroom.

As it turns out, they aren’t on the same flight, so when their flight is called to board, Blaine digs around in his bag and pulls out a couple of Magic Treehouse books and gives them to Asher to keep him busy on his trip. Asher hugs him and gives him an excited thank you.

After waving goodbye, Blaine checks at the gate that his flight was supposed to leave from 5 hours ago. The good news, from what he can tell, is that the plane is going to leave and they are going to start boarding in half an hour. The bad news is that he was supposed to be landing in Las Vegas in 45 minutes. He is really cutting it close.

Blaine hears the announcement to start the boarding process, so he finds the nearest family bathroom—he really prefers privacy in these situations. He checks himself in the mirror, fixing his hair and straightening his tie. Taking a last look at himself he sighs and closes his eyes for just a second. 

When he opens them he runs a hand over his hair to make sure it's all in place, takes a deep breath, and steps out of the bathroom into the JetBlue terminal at Las Vegas International Airport.

\--

Kurt told Blaine he'd meet him in the bar at the Bellagio Hotel, the one right off of the lobby. The problem is the bar is huge and it's Friday night so it's starting to fill up with people. 

Blaine had texted when he got to the airport **I'm here!!** and again when he was stuck in a taxi in traffic on the strip. 

**ugh, I should have walked**

_its too far to walk silly. I'm in the bar I found a seat by the piano. Should I order you a drink?_

**i read online that they have a chocolate espresso martini. Can you order me one of those?**

_i can but oh my god why? That sounds awful_

**But you like chocolate and coffee Kurt**

_but not in a martini. But you may drink anything you want_

Kurt orders and only has to wait a few minutes before he sees Blaine standing in the wide entryway to the bar. He waves Blaine over, wrapping him in his arms and burying his face in Blaine's neck before Blaine can even put down his bag.

"God I missed you." Kurt kisses Blaine's neck, his ear, his cheek, and finally his lips.

Blaine giggles, smiling at Kurt. "It's barely been two days, Kurt." Blaine smacks a loud kiss on Kurt's mouth. "But I missed you too."

Blaine's drink comes and they share it, deciding it's weird but not awful. Kurt has them booked for a 7:00 dinner reservation so they have plenty of time to go up to Kurt's room so Blaine can drop off his bag and change. Somehow they also manage to squeeze in some time to get nakedly reacquainted in the shower.

They have a nice dinner, and Kurt has booked them tickets to see a magician called Piff the Magic Dragon, who dresses in a dragon costume and uses a live dog 'magician' and while Kurt has pretty low expectations going in it turns out to be a pretty entertaining show.

Blaine actually howls with laughter throughout the entire show, somewhat disproportionately, Kurt thinks, to how funny it actually is. After it's over Blaine confesses that he's loved magic shows since he was a kid, and that they always make him laugh (except Penn & Teller, who frighten him for some reason he won't go into). Before they go back to their room they stop for a drink, and about ten minutes of roulette (they lose) and then Kurt decides he's had enough, dragging Blaine back up to the room to impress upon him again just how much he has missed him.

Saturday is more meals and more gambling. The gambling isn't a huge draw for either of them, but after sitting at a nickel slot machine for twenty minutes, Kurt does manage to win a $300 jackpot and they plan to use it for their evening's entertainment budget. Blaine finds a table where you can gamble on the card game War, so he spends the better part of his afternoon not winning or losing very much at all while Kurt wanders the mall at the hotel. After that they decide to take Kurt's winnings and see what the Vegas nightlife has to offer. 

\--

Kurt blinks his eyes through the haze of the morning, feeling like he's been run over by several trucks. He wants to scratch his face, but he's afraid that even that slight motion will have him hurling everything he consumed last night all over the carpet. He knows Blaine is lying next to him, but thankfully they aren't touching, because in that moment Kurt is sure that contact with another human would result in Kurt's skin separating completely from his body. How did he drink so much?

After lying there for what seems like ages, he manages to bring his hand to his head so he can push his hair off of his forehead, resisting the momentary desire to peel it all from his head. The touch of cool metal to his forehead is a shock. He thumbs at his ring finger.

"What the--?" Kurt swallows. He doesn't wear jewelry. Closing his eyes tight against the rising need to empty his stomach, Kurt tries to piece together the night before. There was a comedy club with some very average comedy, a karaoke bar, and much, much later a pretty good drag show. Kurt forces himself to a sitting position, looking at Blaine who is lying next to him, dead to the world. 

Swallowing down his apprehension, he tugs at Blaine's left arm until he frees Blaine's hand, holding it in his own. He feels his heart rate accelerate when he sees the matching rings. _Shit_.

"Blaine." Kurt rubs Blaine's arm, shaking him a little. Nothing. " _Blaine_ ," he tries again, louder this time.

"Nnfgl." Blaine rolls over and pulls a pillow over his head.

"Blaine, wake up."

A muffled 'no'.

"Blaine please. I think something happened last night."

"Mmmhmm drunk too much. Feels like I swallowed a rancid buffalo."

"Yes definitely. But not just that." That seems to get his attention. He lifts the pillow a crack.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Kurt's heart warms at the genuine concern seeping through the hangover. But it seems more important to focus now.

"No, nobody got hurt." 

"Did we go to a drag club?" Blaine is twisting his body around toward Kurt now, but he still doesn't open his eyes. If he feels half as bad as Kurt does he really doesn't blame him.

"We did yes, but no, that’s not it."

"Did you sing at a drag club Kurt? Why do I remember that?"

Kurt chuckled. "No, I most definitely did not do that." Kurt tugs on Blaine's fingers, lacing them together with his own so that their ring fingers line up. They are wearing identical platinum bands. "Blaine, sweetheart. I think we got married."

Blaine sits up, and Kurt watches as the color drains from Blaine's face, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows air, visibly panicking.

"Oh _no. No._ This is a _disaster_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Blaine both have some things to confess, and to talk about. And boy, do they talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sure it's a Bewitched AU, but it's not Kurt and Blaine without a little angst, amirite? Apparently I lied about being able to wrap this up in two chapters, so there will be a third. This one is a bit of a two-hander, but I think it works.
> 
> Mild warnings for some shade thrown on a popular magical universe, a couple of blink and you miss it references to vomit, and some 1960's cartoony observations about what witches do. Not at all meant to represent actual witches.
> 
> Thanks of course to Team Beta.

"Well I don't know if _disaster_ is really the word--" Kurt stops talking when Blaine puts a hand up and shakes his head.

Kurt sits up and watches his boyfriend scramble out of the bed and feel around on the floor for his underwear, pulling them on with a rough tug. If Blaine weren't freaking out Kurt would find it adorable, but Blaine is undeniably freaking out.

"No. No no no you do _not_ understand. You can’t possibly--" Blaine is frantically running his hands through his hair and pacing back and forth on the carpet. "Oh god, my family— _my mother_. This is a _nightmare_. What did I do?"

Kurt's not quite sure how to react but he tries not to be hurt. He knows objectively that getting married on a drunken weekend to someone you've only known a month is probably not the wisest thing he's ever done, but he knows he loves Blaine and he definitely isn’t feeling as freaked out about this as Blaine appears to be.

"I'm sure we can get it annulled or something, okay?" Kurt offers. Before they can make any decisions however he needs Blaine to stop moving. Blaine may have achieved miracle hangover cure with the news, but Kurt was still on shaky ground. “If that’s what you want?” Kurt isn’t sure it’s what he wants.

Blaine does stop and look at Kurt after he mentions the annulment.

"Do you think, um, would we be able to do that? Get an annulment?"

"I don't know, mutual nakedness aside I'm pretty sure we didn't have sex last night." Kurt lifts up the sheets to look under them. He puzzles for a moment to wonder why he’s wearing one sock. "No telltale signs of sex. No errant condom wrappers." Kurt shrugs.

"I'm not sure that argument works if you've been consummating your relationship regularly since the first date." Blaine wraps one arm around himself and goes back to worrying, gnawing on a thumbnail. "Oh god Kurt," he says, a whine escaping with Kurt's name. "What are we going to do?" Blaine starts pacing again. "My mother is going to kill me," he hisses, not really at Kurt. “How could this have happened?”

Blaine is talking more to himself than to Kurt at this point, and Kurt feels a little helpless watching Blaine unravel. He’s not feeling very good about it. Kurt is also not feeling great about the fact that Blaine doesn’t seem to have a lot of regard for how Kurt might be feeling about what happened.

And, if he’s being honest with himself, now that the shock of realizing what had happened is wearing off, Kurt is surprised to discover that the idea of being married to Blaine does not upset him in the least. He knows things might not work out, but Kurt has spent a lot of time working on himself and his expectations of others, and he realizes that there are no guarantees in anything, and he really feels like Blaine is worth risking his heart for. He thought that Blaine had similar feelings, even though they hadn’t sat down and talked about it, but Blaine's reaction is starting to make him question all of that.

And as the events of the night before start to come back to him, Kurt is definitely feeling like he has something that he needs to confess to Blaine. Given his current state, though he has no idea how Blaine is going to take it because he has been pacing and talking to himself for twenty straight minutes.

“Blaine,” Kurt says, hoping he’ll stop and listen to him. “Blaine just stop moving for a minute. I’m hungover and having a hard time focusing.”

Blaine looks at Kurt and Kurt is relieved to see a tiny bit of the cornered wolverine look Blaine had had in his eyes earlier has vanished.

“I’m pretty sure it was my idea.” Kurt says quietly.

Blaine’s eyes are questioning now.

“I’ve been sitting here watching you freak out, and trying to remember what happened, thinking maybe knowing what happened would help.” Kurt nods his head a little hopefully. “Getting married was my idea.”

Blaine doesn’t move, but he’s really looking at Kurt now. “Um, I don’t know, what to--”

“No, wait, let me get through this,” Kurt says, standing. “Maybe you should sit down.” He waves toward the bed and Blaine, surprisingly, does sit. “I remember what happened, and it was my idea, but I need to say something else right now, I think.” Kurt swallows and wishes he had a glass of water or a Bloody Mary or something. But he pushes through.

“Okay, I can do this,” Kurt says, mostly to himself. Blaine is watching him and his breathing is a little rapid. “So, um, I love you,” Kurt blurts out, twisting his fingers in front of him, trying so hard to look Blaine in the eyes when he says it. “I know it hasn’t been that long, and we probably barely know each other, but I have never felt this way about another person, and I have been pretty sure of it for a while.” Blaine isn’t saying anything yet, just watching him, so Kurt inhales and keeps going, all of his feelings spilling out in words like a waterfall.

“I mean—I love watching you get dressed, and the way you have every kitchen gadget I could ever want – even though you don’t cook. I love that you bike to work –Blaine I used to hate cyclists in New York and now every time I see one I think ‘Oh Blaine biked to work today and isn’t it so amazing that he cares about the environment and I hope he wore his helmet today’ which is ridiculous because you would never ride your bike without your helmet, and what it does to your ass and your thighs is just amazing really—everyone should bike everywhere; and I love your bow ties and the fact that you put more gel in your hair than any man has a right and you still look gorgeous doing it. I love that you teach kindergarten and how calm you are about everything,” Kurt laughs, “most of the time anyway. And that when I look at you I think—I think we could have kids and you’d be the most amazing dad and I have never had that thought about anyone ever Blaine—most people I know can’t keep their phone charged and I don’t trust my friends to make dinner reservations--” and Kurt knows he’s rambling, but he doesn’t know if he’s making his point or just sounding crazy.

“And then last night, we were having such a good time, and we were dancing and you had your arms around me and I just wanted to. In that moment I couldn’t imagine ever wanting anything else. So I said we should get married.” Kurt shrugs again, a little helpless in the face of confessing so much to Blaine. “And you said yes we should.”

Kurt hadn’t realized but halfway through Blaine had started crying. As he takes a step toward him, Blaine stands and grabs Kurt by the face and kisses him. He’s covered in tears and they are all over Kurt too now, but Kurt doesn’t care because Blaine doesn’t hate him. At least he thinks he doesn’t.

He gets his answer a minute later when Blaine finally stops kissing him. He doesn’t let him go, and they stand tangled together, foreheads knocking, while Blaine catches his breath. “Are you okay?” Kurt finally asks.

Blaine nods. “I love you Kurt. I love you.” Kurt nods and squeezes him a little tighter. “I’m sorry, I must seem like a lunatic right now.”

“Well, maybe a little,” Kurt answers with a light chuckle. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Blaine shakes his head once, in an attempt to pull himself together. “Okay. So, um, I also, have felt what you feel. Like right from the beginning. I adore you and I have never been so happy in my _life_ Kurt.” Blaine grabs Kurt’s hands, squeezing them in his own.

“In fact, before you asked me to come with you I was planning to tell you all this over a romantic dinner this weekend.” Blaine swallows a laugh, looking up into Kurt’s eyes. “I love you. And I knew it was soon and it seemed crazy and we haven’t really talked about not seeing other people, but I’m not interested in anyone else, and I don’t think you are either. And maybe it would be too early to talk about things like the future or moving in together, but I wanted us to be heading that way. Together.” Blaine smiles, a little too sadly for Kurt. He doesn’t want any of this to make Blaine sad.

“There’s a ‘but’ here,” Kurt says, and Blaine raises an eyebrow at that, but he lets it pass and goes on.

“Yeah, um, my family? They’re—difficult, for lack of a better word right now. And honestly I have no idea if you will still feel the same way about me after you meet them.”

Kurt’s just confused now. “Blaine, everyone has an adjustment period with their in-laws.” Kurt shrugs. “I imagine my dad isn’t going to be thrilled when I tell him I got drunk in Las Vegas and got married.”

Blaine levels an unimpressed look at him, but Kurt just grins, and they both feel things slip toward something slightly more normal.

“We’ll work it out.” Blaine looks skeptical, but Kurt is confident. If it’s just Blaine’s family that he’s worried about, they’ll get through it. “I’m married to you, not them. I love you.” Kurt opens his arms, and Blaine steps into them and they hold each other for a moment. Kurt is _sure_. “But sadly we need to be at the airport by 12:30 and we still have to pack and check out and I don’t know about you but I really need a shower.”

Blaine nods. “You go first, I’ll get things packed.” He starts to gather their clothes from the floor and waves Kurt into the bathroom.

Once Kurt shuts the door Blaine waits until he can hear the water running in the shower before he drops the clothes. He sits down on the edge of the bed and buries his face in his hands. It takes him a minute to settle down. He knows what’s coming. He should probably just say something.

“I know you’re here,” he says to the empty room. “Just come out so we can get this over with.”

Blaine waits as an airless breeze ruffles the hotel room, then turns to see his mother sitting on the desk. She’s wearing a snug dress, purples and greys, her usual colors, and her hair is grey-flecked black with deep purple streaks cut through it. The purple, Blaine knows, identifies Pamela Anderson as a senior member of the Witches Council. It has never been easy being her son.

“I can take care of this,” she says, raising an arm into the air.

“Don’t you dare, Mother,” Blaine counters. She drops her arm. “And keep your voice down, he’s only in the shower and he could come out at any time.”

Pam scoffs, flicking her fingers toward the bathroom. “Now he won’t. We have all the time we need.”

Blaine shakes his head. “Can’t you leave anything alone?” He’s pretty confident at this point in their relationship that his mother knows that by ‘anything’ he means him.

“He’s _human_ Blaine. You cannot be serious.” She’s not even angry, just vaguely inconvenienced. “You caused enough of a scandal when you chose to live amongst them. Now this? How will I ever live it down?” Of course she only cares about how this will reflect on her.

“I love him, Mother, and we’re married.” Blaine waves his wedding ring-clad finger at her and Pam just rolls her eyes. “I don’t really care how this affects you because it’s not your life, it’s mine. And I want to spend it with Kurt.”

“That’s ridiculous Blainey.” He blanches at that, he’s not a child. “It would be nothing to make him forget this ever happened,” she tells him. “Or I could just turn him into an armadillo and send him to the desert and we’ll never have to hear from him again.” She raises her arm again, ready to cast any number of different spells on Kurt.

“Mother! You will do no such thing. I don’t want to make him forget. And I would never forget.” Blaine shakes his head. “I won’t let you hurt us because I’m inconvenient, and I won’t lie to him Mom.”

“Oh honey,” she says, softening slightly. “You already are.”

Blaine hugs himself when she says that. It’s the real thing that he’s been panicking about since the moment Kurt woke him and told him that they were married. He hadn’t lied when he told Kurt he was worried about what Kurt would think of his family, but there were still so many ways this could go wrong.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” He does not want to cry in front of his mother, she’s not a hugger and she isn’t going to soothe him. That’s always been his own responsibility. “I had plans to tell him,” he says. His mother just shakes her head at him like he’s a child who won’t eat his vegetables. “I just needed some more time. I wanted to make sure he really felt the same way about us that I did. That I do.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s human, and you’re a witch, and this can never last. It’s only going to end in heartbreak for you son.” The bored tone in her voice is irritating him enough that he pulls back from his tears. “I can just imagine what your father will say.”

“You told Dad?!”

She crosses her arms in front of her, nose in the air. “Of course not, you know we’re not on speaking terms.”

“Well don’t tell him. I’ll let him know myself.”

“Huh,” Pam huffs. “I didn’t think you were on speaking terms with him either.”

Blaine turns and glares at his mother. He’s had about enough of her at this point. He wants to tell Kurt the truth so that they can move on with their life. He hopes they can move on with their lives together.

“Dad’s approval is not something I have ever had, so I think I’ll live through his disappointment this time just like all the rest. And honestly Mom, I think it’s about time you were on your way. Kurt and I have a plane to catch--”

Pam rolls her eyes. “I do not know why you even bother with that ridiculous human technology. Have a little self respect--”

“Stop it, Mother,” Blaine interrupts her tirade. “That’s enough. You have to leave now.”

“Fine.” Pam Anderson waves a hand in a figure eight with an exaggerated flourish and disappears in the same breeze that brought her to Blaine.

Blaine sighs, closing his eyes in frustration. “Mother!” He shouts into the empty room. “Let him out!”

Blaine watches the lights flicker throughout the room, and fifteen seconds later the water turns off in the bathroom. Blaine rushes to pick up everything that he had neglected while arguing with his mother and set out some clothes he thinks Kurt will want to wear for traveling. He checks the clock and sighs, only fifteen minutes have passed since Kurt got in the shower. It had felt like the longest fifteen minutes of his life, but he has a sinking feeling the next fifteen are going to be worse.

\--

When Kurt exits the bathroom, one towel tied around his waist while he drags another through his hair, squeezing out all the remaining water, Blaine is sitting on the end of their bed, his head cradled in his hands. They are definitely in a fragile place and in the sober light of day he knows choosing to stay married is risky. He spent a long time in the shower considering the pros and cons of it, and there are plenty of both, but Kurt can’t shake the certain feeling that Blaine is the person he belongs with.

“Blaine?” Blaine looks up with such a look of distress on his face that Kurt thinks he’s panicking all over again. “What’s wrong? Did you change your mind?” Kurt sucks in a breath. “I don’t want you to change your mind, but I don’t want you to stay in this with me if you really don’t want to, okay?”

Blaine shakes his head once. “That’s not—um, can you sit?” Blaine stands and motions for Kurt to sit in the spot he just vacated, so he does. “I have to tell you something.”

“Anything,” Kurt answers quickly. “You can tell me anything Blaine. I want you to tell me everything, always. Whatever you need. Or nothing, if you don’t need to. Whatever you need from me. I love you.” Kurt knows he’s babbling again, but he kind of can’t stop. Blaine is pacing again and maybe if Kurt keeps talking he can calm Blaine down so he can calm down too.

“I love you too,” Blaine says, stopping long enough to look Kurt in the eyes. Blaine looks certain when he says it, so Kurt folds his hands in his lap and waits. “So this is something I would have preferred to tell you before we took any major steps in our relationship, like moving in together or, um, getting married.” Blaine winces, and Kurt tries not to laugh, because he’s starting to feel a little hysterical. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, I want you to know that.” Kurt nods because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Blaine rubs his face a few times then stands in front of Kurt, hands spread wide in front of him. “I’m a witch.”

Kurt sputters. “What-a-what?”

Blaine sucks his lips into his mouth, wincing a little. He tries again. “I’m a witch. A spell-casting, broom-riding, cauldron-stirring witch.”

Kurt opens his mouth to say something, but it takes a while for the words to come. And he’s not really sure what the words should be. “Blaine, did you hit your head last night? Or maybe drink too much? Maybe you have alcohol poisoning.” Kurt starts to stand, but Blaine stops him.

“Hang on,” he says. “This is a little weird the first time.” Kurt obediently sits back down on the bed and Blaine snaps his fingers…

…and they are not in their hotel room any longer. They are sitting in Blaine’s bedroom in Brooklyn. Kurt is still wearing the towel he wrapped around his waist in Las Vegas, and Blaine is standing at the foot of the bed in only his underwear.

Kurt swallows what feels like a bag of rocks. “Blaine where are we?”

“My apartment. In Brooklyn.”

“But h-how--”

Blaine nods and snaps his fingers again…

…and they are back in their hotel room in Las Vegas. Kurt tries to breathe, but realizes that breathing is going to have to wait and clamps his hand over his mouth and runs into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

\--

Blaine waits for Kurt, leaning against the low hotel room dresser. When he’s waited what seems like a long enough time and Kurt still hasn’t come out, Blaine steps toward the bathroom to check on him. He's about to knock on the door when the knob turns and clicks and Kurt pulls the door open, only startling slightly at Blaine's appearance on the other side. Blaine takes it as a good sign that Kurt looks directly at him.

"Are you okay?"

Kurt laughs sharply and moves past Blaine into the room, though he doesn't push.

"I don't think okay is the word I would use," he says. Blaine nods and Kurt moves around the room, dropping his towel on the floor and pulling on underwear and a t-shirt. "But I think I'm not quite at the believing you stage of this yet, if you can bear with me for a bit longer."

"Anything, Kurt," Blaine says. "But you have to believe that this is not something I would have kept from you if I had had any warning that, um, this—I just--"

“I know,” Kurt stops him. "I can get there, I think. We hadn't ever talked about this, us." Kurt waves his hand back and forth indicating them both. "I'm sure there are a lot of things I don't know about you yet, and there are certainly things you don't know about me. You could like football or mayonnaise for all I know."

"Well, actually--" Blaine starts.

"No," Kurt says. "One trauma at a time." Blaine smiles but bites his lip and holds back a chuckle. "I can't quite wrap my head around this being real. I need to see something—something else. Just—no more trips." Kurt holds his stomach.

Blaine nods again, flexing his arms a little. The movement isn't lost on Kurt, and while he doesn't think Blaine did it to distract him, he licks his lips without thinking.

"Like what?" Blaine asks.

Kurt shrugs. "Anything, I don't know.” Kurt looks around. “Turn the room yellow."

Blaine twists his mouth up at the corner, but he doesn’t say no. “Yellow?”

“Can you do that? Make everything yellow?” Kurt looks like he can’t decide if he wants Blaine to say yes or no.

Blaine nods and snaps his fingers again…

…and the room is yellow. Everything is yellow. The rug and the pillows, and the furniture, and the television and the television screen. Kurt’s clothes and Blaine’s clothes and everything in the room. It’s all yellow. Kurt makes a noise that is borderline hysterical, and Blaine snaps his fingers again and it all turns back to normal.

“You’re a witch.” Kurt’s mouth is hanging open.

“Yes.”

“Like Harry Potter.” It’s not a question.

Blaine shakes his head. “Not like Harry Potter. Harry Potter is fiction.”

Kurt laughs again only it comes out more like a crazy cackle. “It’s fiction. Right.”

Kurt is pacing now, mumbling to himself, his hands flapping aimlessly in the air. “I married a witch. Of course you did Hummel. You are the only person you know who could be so self absorbed that they could date a witch and not notice.”

“Kurt.” Blaine doesn’t want Kurt to feel like he’s been stupid. They both just need to decide what they are going to do about it. Blaine knows what he wants. “You couldn’t have known, I promise.”

Realization dawns on Kurt’s face and he starts peppering questions at Blaine. “When I spilled coffee on you, you didn’t need to wash your shirt, did you? Or need my help in the store?” Blaine just stands, his arms hanging by his sides. He doesn’t answer but Kurt can tell by the look on his face that he’s right. “Your cat isn’t named after _Sabrina the Teenage Witch_ , is she?”

“No,” Blaine says. “To all of the above.”

“Blaine, I have seen you, in rubber gloves and teeny tiny shorts, clean your bathroom. With your own hands.” Kurt’s voice is getting higher as he tries to come to grips with everything he’s learned in the last half hour. “Explain that to me?”

Blaine shrugs. “I like to clean?” Kurt just stares at him, not saying anything else. “Kurt, I don’t, um, I don’t live with people—humans so that I can have everything easier because I have abilities that other people don’t, I don’t even use magic that often, usually. Little things sometimes, maybe,” Blaine says. “I like people. I like to live here. I want to be like everyone else. Normal.”

Kurt is twisting his hands in his t-shirt. “I don’t even know what that means. I have never been normal in my life. Well, more normal in New York than anywhere, I suppose. But why?”

“Why do I live with humans, and not with other witches?” Kurt nods. “Um, that’s kind of a long story, I guess, but the short version is that I’m more comfortable with humans. We can be difficult in a group, witches. And I didn’t really fit in growing up, so when it came time to decide how I wanted to live, this is what I chose.”

_“You clean your own bathroom, Blaine? This is worse than I thought.”_

That did not come from Blaine. Kurt spins around in a circle. There is no one in the room but them. “What the hell was that?”

“My god, Mother. What are you still doing here?”

“Your mother?” Kurt is staring at Blaine, chin hanging and shaking his head. “She’s here? I don’t see—“

_“Checking on you, dear.”_

Blaine closes his eyes, both hands on his hips in defiance. “I don’t think this is a good time for that. You need to leave now.” Then, after a moment of silence he goes on. “Next weekend. You can come by for dinner.”

“How long has your mother been here?” Kurt can feel the hysteria building again.

Blaine finally notices Kurt’s agitated state. “She dropped in while you were in the shower,” Blaine tells him. “I guess I said her name too many times in my momentarily panicked state,” he spits out at the ceiling.

Kurt laughs sharply but not exactly with humor. “Like Beetlejuice?”

“Only Beetlejuice is less impulsive and easier TO GET RID OF,” Blaine shouts at the ceiling.

_“That’s not a very nice way to talk about your mother, sweetheart.”_

Blaine looks about to explode, but they both feel a shift in the air and Blaine relaxes.

“I’m sorry—she’s gone.” He shakes his head. “I was going to say she can be a bit much sometimes, but she’s pretty much always like that, so all I can say is that I will do everything possible to keep her in line.”

Kurt is trying to process everything that just happened, but the only thing he can think to say is, “ _Beetlejuice_ is just a movie, right?”

Blaine laughs. “Just a movie, yes.”

“Okay.” Kurt’s exhausted. They woke up early and hungover and the morning has been very full of things Kurt is still only barely processing. And on top of that he’s married. He really just wants to go home. “I really want to go home now. What time do we have to check out?”

Blaine rubs his face with both hands then waves a hand at the room phone. “As long as we need.”

Kurt’s eyes go wide. “Blaine did you just--?”

Blaine’s eyes go wider and he looks at Kurt and back at the telephone. “Oh god, I didn’t mean—shit. I never—it seemed like extenuating circumstances.” Blaine holds up his hands and sighs. “I’m going to take a shower now. Kurt? I have no idea what you’re thinking, and I imagine that you don’t either yet, but I would really like to hug you now.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything, but he does open his arms. Blaine steps into them and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist.

“I don’t know what I’m thinking either Blaine. But I do know I love you.” Blaine chokes a sob into Kurt’s neck before releasing Kurt and disappearing into the bathroom.

\--

Kurt knows Blaine won't take long in the shower, although he will spend a ridiculous amount of time doing his hair, so he gathers the rest of their belongings and packs them up carefully but not paying much attention to what he’s putting in each bag.

He gets dressed thinking about Blaine's hair. Kurt has watched him meticulously gel down every strand, working extra hard to get the part exactly right, regularly. Why, though? Kurt can't not wonder. Blaine could zap his hair into submission every day. It would certainly be easier and take much less time. But he doesn't.

There are things Blaine could use magic for every day that would make his life easier. He doesn't really have to bike to work or take the subway. He doesn't really have to spend time cooking or baking or cleaning. He does all of those things anyway. More than that, from what Kurt has seen he really does seems to enjoy them.

Kurt wonders if he's been doing it for show, so he wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Kurt supposes he could understand that. It would make sense, Blaine obviously has a lot of practice hiding the fact that he's a witch. They'd only been dating a month. Maybe none of his friends know either. But that must be hard, having to hide such a big part of himself from everyone all of the time. He wants to ask Blaine about that and makes a mental note to do that when things are more settled.

Kurt thinks briefly that he should call his dad, but what would he say? _'Hi, Dad? I got drunk in Vegas and married a guy I've only known for a month—and oh by the way he's a witch.'_ He laughs at the thought. It might be better to give himself a day or two to let it all settle in and then call Burt. Once he tells Burt he'll either have to bring Blaine home to Ohio or his dad will be on the next plane to New York to investigate in person. Kurt thinks he should really talk to Blaine first about what story they want to tell people about how they got married.

Kurt glances at the alarm clock on the bedside table and sighs. It’s 11 am and their flight is at 1:50. They really just need to get out of this hotel room and be somewhere normal.

After everything is packed Kurt goes through a stack of papers and strange flyers and programs they picked up and stuffed in their pockets while they wandered through the casinos. Most of it is trash, and Kurt tosses each piece into the can.

The last thing is a piece of folded gold card stock, and when he opens it inside is a photo of him and Blaine, an Elvis impersonator, a drag queen and a guy Kurt has never seen before in his life, all standing together smiling (sort of) at the camera. Kurt realizes with a jolt that this is his wedding photo. A man he loves but barely knows and three total strangers. They don’t look as drunk as he remembers being at the time.

Kurt sits on the bed, staring at the picture. He can’t believe that this is his _wedding photo_. Ten-year-old Kurt Hummel would never have stood for it. Twenty-five year old Kurt Hummel wouldn’t have stood for it either. Kurt’s stomach drops and ties itself in a knot and suddenly it can’t be real. _What if it isn’t real?_ Blaine would never do something like that, would he? Kurt feels a rush of nausea as wonders, really wonders, how this could have happened. _Blaine would never do that to me_ , he thinks. But the truth is he has no idea. He doesn’t know if he’s going to cry or throw up.

He’s still sitting on the bed staring at the photo when Blaine finally comes out of the bathroom.

“Is this real?” He manages to choke out, tears finally spilling down his face. He shakily holds the photo up and Blaine takes it, but Kurt can tell by the confused look on Blaine’s face that he doesn’t understand, so he says the only thing he can think that might make it clearer. “Do I love you?”

“Wh-what?” Blaine takes a step closer, but stops when Kurt flinches. “Kurt?”

“Did you make me--” Kurt swallows, not wanting to say it. “Can you make people fall in love? Is that something you—witches—something you can do?”

Blaine realizes what Kurt is asking before he finishes and is shaking his head before Kurt gets to the end of his sentence.

“No, Kurt, no—I would never. I couldn’t—we can’t—we can’t make people fall in love.” He sits next to Kurt and take both of Kurt’s hands in his. “People are, believe it or not, too strong willed to force them to have specific feelings over a long period of time. They fight against any sort of long-term influence even without knowing it. It’s not something anyone has done for centuries.” Blaine shakes his head. “I might be able to, um," Blaine pauses, "cast a love spell that would cause an infatuation for a day or two. But I couldn’t make you fall in love with me.” He thumbs a tear from Kurt’s cheek.

It should be enough, Kurt thinks, to know that. To know that Blaine wouldn’t, that he couldn’t. “I want to believe you,” Kurt says. “This has all been a lot to take in.”

“It has,” Blaine says, thumbing his wedding ring.

\--

They get to the airport and have coffee and seats at the gate when the gate agent calls Kurt to the desk and upgrades them to first class.

“I had nothing to do with that,” Blaine says when Kurt tells him.

“Oh, I know. This one was all me. I was here for work and Vogue will pay for an upgrade for a flight over 2 and a half hours.” Blaine is looking at him with half a smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, I covered yours.” When Blaine’s smirk turns into a glare he goes on “What? We’ve had a hectic weekend.”

Blaine’s ticket beeps when his ticket is scanned so he get pulled aside and the gate agent asks why he wasn’t on his outbound flight, and Blaine explains that he booked a different airline when his flight was delayed for 5 hours. This satisfies the gate agent, but Kurt is looking at him with his eyebrows knotted together.

“You didn’t tell me you changed your flight,” he says to Blaine.

“That’s because I didn’t,” Blaine whispers. It only takes Kurt a minute to figure it out.

They settle into the flight. Blaine opts for coffee and a cinnamon muffin and Kurt eats his sandwich and half of Blaine’s, mumbling something about being starving. By the time the flight is an hour in they are both stretched out in their first class seats, sound asleep, fingers tangled together. 

\--

It’s late by the time they land, and they are settled in a taxi heading to their neighborhood before it hits Blaine that he has no idea where they are going tonight. At least Kurt is still holding his hand.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Kurt says into the dark. Blaine turns his head to face him. “I think we should live in your apartment.”

“What?” That is not what Blaine expected to hear.

“I hate my apartment Blaine. I love yours and if we lived there we could save money faster and maybe get something bigger in six months. Especially if I can sell mine.”

Blaine shakes his head, sputtering, “I, uh, honestly Kurt, I wasn’t even sure you wanted to spend the night with me tonight.” He squeezes Kurt’s fingers tighter.

Kurt shakes his head. “Yeah, I know I’ve kind of left you hanging, but I really just feel so talked out at this point.” Kurt squeezes Blaine’s fingers back and they both shift a little so they are facing each other in the back seat. “I do think we still have things to talk about, and probably a lot of things to figure out about each other.” Kurt makes sure to catch Blaine’s eye as he goes on. “But I’m not ready to imagine my life without you, okay? If you’ll still have me after all of this chaos?”

“Yes, oh god, _always_.” Blaine grabs Kurt and kisses him then. They’ve barely touched in what feels like an eternity and they’re both hungry for it. They break apart and Blaine laughs. “But Kurt, I really have no idea how you are going to fit all of your clothes into my apartment.”

\--

After the cab drops them off in front of Blaine’s apartment Kurt opts to take a walk to his place to pick up some clean clothes for work the next day. Blaine had jokingly offered to zap some clothes over, but after the day they just had Kurt thinks he could use fifteen minutes alone to clear his head.

He lets himself into his apartment, drops his keys in the bowl and looks around. It’s a decently sized one-bedroom with a small office alcove. It’s nicely decorated with greys and the occasional citrusy accent piece or pillow. It barely looks lived in.

Kurt shakes his head, moves quietly through the bedroom and the bathroom collecting things he needs for the next few days and mentally plans to spend the next weekend going through the rest of his things to decide what goes into storage and what moves to Blaine’s. He also needs to call his realtor to talk to her about putting it back on the market. He laughs at himself in the silence; he can’t wait.

When he arrives back at Blaine’s apartment Kurt finds that Blaine has already sorted the clothes out of their carry-ons and turned on his tea kettle. That Blaine has an electric kettle instead of a stove-top one is another thing Kurt has always found charming about him. He pulls out a mug and drops a spoonful of ginger tea in it before pouring the hot water. He hears the bathroom door open and watches Blaine join him in the kitchen, wrapped in one of his fluffy navy blue towels. Except for the unexpected witch thing, Kurt really does not regret anything.

“Everything okay?” Blaine asks, kissing Kurt on the cheek and taking the offered mug from his hands.

Kurt nods. “Perfect.”

Blaine smiles, and Kurt melts a little. They are going to make this work. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to shower, but I put some fresh towels in the bathroom. Oh, I also unpacked everything so you can decide what to drop at the dry cleaner on the way in tomorrow. 

“Yes I saw that, thank you,” Kurt says. Blaine is looking at him, his usual calm, sweet expression returned now that he is home and feeling more relaxed. He’s also damp and half naked and Kurt is having a hard time choosing between a shower and tugging Blaine’s towel off and mauling him right here in the kitchen.

“Kurt?” Blaine is looking at him with concern.

Kurt laughs. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I zoned out there for a minute.”

“Come on,” Blaine says, putting his hand around Kurt’s arm and pulling him toward the hall. “Shower. I know it’s late, but you will feel better and sleep better after.”

\--

Blaine was right, of course. Kurt doesn’t take a long shower, but when he steps out into the mix of still steamy air in the bathroom and cool air from the hall he does feel more relaxed. He dries off as best he can and pulls on some loose boxers to sleep in and heads for the bedroom. Their bedroom. Their bedroom where his husband is waiting for him. For a moment the weight of everything that happened feels heavy again.

Then he steps into their bedroom where Blaine is sitting cross-legged on the bed in his pajama bottoms, thumbing over the screen on his phone. The lights are low and the windows are opened from the top (“because it lets the air in but it doesn’t blow dirt everywhere Kurt”) and Blaine’s favorite cedar scented candle is burning on the windowsill. No other place has ever felt so much like home. Blaine looks up when Kurt enters.

“Hi.” Blaine is all smiles and Kurt crawls on the bed, kneeling in front of him and leaning close. Blaine’s back straightens and he leans in toward Kurt’s body as if pulled by a string.

“You know, Blaine, we really didn’t have much of a wedding night.” Kurt brushes his nose over Blaine’s and gives him a soft kiss.

“No, uh, we didn’t.” Blaine’s voice catches in his throat when he answers. “It’s late though so I thought--” Kurt cuts him off with a kiss.

“Open,” Kurt whispers, and when Blaine does he thrusts his tongue in, teasing and licking and Blaine just takes it. “It is late,” Kurt says, pushing Blaine back onto the bed. “But you are fucking gorgeous and my husband and I want my hands on you.”

Blaine moans, “Ooh, I like your hands Kurt,” and he wriggles out of his pjs, cock hard and eager. Kurt pushes off the underwear he just put on and straddles Blaine until he can get his hand wrapped around both of their cocks. He squeezes them both, dry and rough, before stopping to spit on his palm and goes back to it. He doesn’t need any lube, he’s not going to last and he doesn’t care, but he can see Blaine wincing so he slows, mumbling “lube?” but Blaine shakes his head and makes a noise and spits into his own hand and joins it with Kurt’s. Kurt can feel sweat break out all over his back as they fuck into their joined hands, and he doesn’t even try to draw it out as his balls tighten and his dick throbs and he comes all over their hands and Blaine and the bed. He manages to hang on as Blaine moans, hips moving as he keeps thrusting through the come and sweat until he gasps and Kurt watches him come, his body convulsing as thick spurts paint across his chest. Kurt stares for a long moment before leaning down and licking some off Blaine’s collarbones.

“Oh my _god_ Kurt.”

“You’re beautiful,” is all Kurt says, before kissing him not so softly on his mouth then dropping to his side on the bed. Blaine reaches for a few tissues and the clean up enough to sleep. They’re both too spent now for anything else.

Neither of them fall asleep.

“I’ll make some room tomorrow, for your things,” Blaine says.

Kurt just chuckles. “Okay. I don’t need most of it. Just clothes and some personal stuff.”

“I like your couch though. All I have is that futon. We should switch them.”

“Mmm hmmm,” Kurt agrees. “Blaine why do you only have that futon?” Kurt has always wondered.

“I dunno,” Blaine says, wiggling in Kurt’s arms. “It’s just me, I’ve never really thought about it. But we can decorate however you want, so long as I have some room for lessons.” Kurt smiles to himself as Blaine snuggles his face into Kurt’s chest. “We should sleep now.”

“Blaine?” He knows Blaine isn’t sleeping yet. He also knows that tomorrow is going to suck for both of them. “I’ve been looking at your closet and I think you’re right, about my clothes not fitting. Can you, I don’t know, maybe, TARDIS it up?”

“Kurt did you just make a Doctor Who reference?”

“I think so, yes?”

Blaine laughs. “We do have the, um, _technology_ for that, yes.” Kurt bounces a little, excited at that news. “But can we talk about it tomorrow?”

Kurt nods his head into the pillow. “Oh we will definitely talk about that tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3a

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Blaine begin the long process of trying to figure out how to be married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I am the worst judge of how long it takes me to write something. Chapter 3 got long, so after some consultation I'm posting it as a 3a and 3b. 
> 
> Nothing to warn, I don't think...

Monday morning is more or less like any other weekday morning that they'd woken up together before they got married; and if they were both a bit more tired than usual, they couldn’t stop smiling because of it.

After discussing it, they decided they were going to skip telling people the details of the wedding and simply tell everyone that they eloped and, if anyone pressed for more, that yes they had been talking about it and Kurt's trip to Las Vegas gave them an opportunity. And yes, they were both very happy and excited about their future.

Kurt knows that before he calls and tells anyone that he has to call his father. He’s simultaneously excited and not looking forward to it at all. He’s happy, and he wants his dad to be happy for him, but Kurt knows that his dad will have a lot of questions. He just hopes he has answers that will satisfy Burt Hummel. Steeling himself for what’s to come, Kurt picks up his office phone and pushes the buttons.

The phone rings three times and Kurt is momentarily hopeful that he can leave a message and face the music later, but Burt picks up on the fourth ring. 

"Tire ‘n Lube." 

"Hi Dad."

"Hey Kurt.” Burt pauses. “Everything alright? You don't usually call at, what is it—noon on a Monday."

"No everything's good Dad. Really good actually. I, um, I have some good news."

"Y’know I always love to hear good news."

Kurt can tell from the cadence of his voice that his dad is not sure the news he's getting will be all that good.

"So you know I told you I was going to Las Vegas for work this weekend?"

Burt grunts. "Yeah, you hate Vegas."

"Yeah, about that." Kurt can actually feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck. He’s not entirely sure he isn’t going to throw up. "So Blaine came out with me--"

Kurt can feel Burt perk up at that. He knows he mentioned Blaine to his dad the first week, when Kurt had dumped his coffee all over this cute but random stranger, but in Burt’s defense Kurt hasn’t spoken to him much in the past month. He’d been spending all of his time with Blaine.

"That the guy you've been dating?"

"Uh huh, yeah, that's him." _Shit_. Kurt hears his already high voice reach a few new octaves. "So, Dad, Blaine and I—we got married in Las Vegas.”

Kurt holds his breath and waits for the explosion. He waits for his dad to tell him every single reason imaginable why it was a stupid thing to do, and then to come up with a few no one has ever thought of. He waits for Burt to insist that they get divorced as quickly as possible, to tell him he’s being irresponsible and immature and to remind him that he hasn’t had a relationship yet that lasted longer than six months and why on earth did he think that marrying a guy he’d known for a month was a smart thing to do?

But he doesn’t say anything. Nothing at all. Kurt can hear him breathing so he knows he’s still alive.

“Dad? I hope I didn’t give you another heart attack.” Kurt chuckles weakly, hoping the gallows humor gets through.

Burt makes a noncommittal noise on the other end of the phone and Kurt can hear him sit down in his desk chair. He braces himself for the coming onslaught.

“Well, then I suppose congratulations are in order, son. Were you planning on bringing him out to meet us anytime soon? We should have some people over—make an announcement or something.”

Kurt exhales shakily. “Um, Blaine is a kindergarten teacher—did I tell you that?—and he doesn’t get a lot of time off during the school year. But, uh the year is over soon, and we are planning to come visit at least for a long weekend, depending on what time I can get off of work, of course. Although I suspect I can get some time, under the circumstances.”

Burt hums. “Maybe Carole and me can get out for a weekend sooner. Just to meet Blaine.” There’s a bit of an edge to Burt’s voice. Kurt knows this won’t be the last of it.

“Sure, Dad, any time. Just let me know and we’ll set up the bedroom in my apartment. We’re staying at Blaine’s for now.” Kurt gives Burt all of Blaine’s contact information, because he should have it, and Burt is at least pleased when Kurt tells him that Blaine keeps a phone in the apartment as well as a cell phone ‘because it’s important to have all available communication during an emergency.’ 

By the time Kurt hangs up he’s shaking from nerves and he needs aromatherapy or a shot of tequila or to watch some puppy videos. Luckily for him his boss shows up in his office and drags him to an impromptu wedding shower in the conference room that has been quickly catered with sandwiches and several bottles of champagne. He is thankfully not expected to accomplish much the rest of the day.

Blaine's co-workers do manage to convince him to join them at the bar around the corner for drinks after school lets out, but he keeps it to one and is on his bike heading home as soon as Kurt texts him to let him know he is getting on the subway.

When Kurt finally arrives home Blaine is in the kitchen, bent over in front of the oven removing what looks, and smells, like a quiche. He stops for just a moment to admire his husband's ass, and Blaine catches him.

"Is that how it's going to be?" Blaine asks with a wink holding the hot dish in front of him, oversized oven mitts covering him from his fingers to his elbows. "I slave over a hot stove all afternoon making you dinner and you come home and leer at my ass?"

“You know if you were wearing an apron it would really complete the whole scene for me,” Kurt says with a cheeky smirk, waving his hand in a head-to-toe gesture.

"Oh really?" Blaine says. Kurt watches as Blaine twitches his nose and is suddenly wearing the apron from a stereotypical French maid costume.

“I say apron and you go straight to frilly French maid? Interesting.”

“You don’t like that? Okay.” Blaine twitches his nose again and he’s wearing a boring white cotton wraparound apron that looks swiped from Gordon Ramsay’s closet, still holding the quiche in front of him. Kurt scrunches his face disapprovingly.

“I don’t think so,” he says, shaking his head.

Blaine thinks for a minute and grins. “I’ve got it.” He twitches his nose and instead of a frilly French maid or a dull classic chef’s apron Blaine is wearing a tan leather welder’s apron. It’s snug around his waist and Kurt’s mouth goes dry. Blaine wiggles his eyebrows at Kurt. “Good right?”

“You need to be naked under that.” Kurt almost chokes. “Put that down.” He points at the quiche and Blaine complies, dropping the oven mitts on a chair. Kurt grabs Blaine by the shoulders and twists him around until he’s backed up against the counter, and then dives in for an open mouthed kiss. “Not naked yet,” Kurt whines between sucking and licking at Blaine’s mouth.

“Kurt, _ahhhh_ , I can’t, _uhhh_ —“ Kurt’s mouth is traveling across Blaine’s jaw, biting and flicking his tongue at the rapidly prickling flesh of his fresh new husband. “I like when you do it.”

“Mmm, what?”

“I like when you take off my clothes.”

Kurt whines and tugs at the apron ties. “Off, off, off.” Blaine laughs and his nose twitches and the barrier to Blaine’s clothes is gone and Kurt tugs at Blaine’s belt and button and zipper with one hand and his own with the other. “Thought about you all day.” Kurt gets his hand in Blaine’s tiny briefs and wraps his hand around Blaine’s cock. “Can I fuck you? Right here?”

“God yes, _yes_ ,” and that’s all Kurt needs to hear before he spins him around. Blaine wiggles and pushes his pants down over his hips, where they fall to his ankles as he spreads his legs just a little, still trapped in the puddled jeans. Kurt pushes up behind him, rubs his cock on Blaine’s bare ass and spreads his cheeks so he can rub between them. Then he curses quietly. “Kurt?” Blaine says, questioning.

“I, uh, don’t have anything in here.” Blaine gets it right away though and reaches his left arm out and taps on the counter, over the drawer where Blaine keeps all his kitchen gadgets. Kurt pulls open the drawer and inside a small bottle of lube and a strip of condoms is sitting right there. He makes an undignified victory noise and pours lubricant over his fingers and Blaine’s hole and pushes two fingers into his husband. Kurt doesn’t go slow, and Blaine doesn’t need him to, and when he’s ready he rolls on a condom and presses in and Blaine opens up with a low groan.

“Come on,” Blaine pushes back, and Kurt doesn’t need more encouragement that that, so he grabs Blaine’s hips and starts fucking him—long, hard strokes that have Blaine babbling and gasping. “Kurt, _please_ , oh god don’t stop right _there_ , yeah, _ah ahh_.” And then Blaine twists and grinds his ass against Kurt and Kurt comes, bent over Blaine’s back, his dick throbbing.

Blaine reaches a hand back to hold Kurt inside and he grinds back in quick, jerky circles until he finds the spot he wants, fucking himself on Kurt’s cock until he comes too, without so much as a hand on him.

“That escalated quickly,” Blaine says after a few minutes. His voice is muffled slightly by how his face is buried in the crook of his elbow.

Kurt laughs and pushes off of Blaine’s back. “Sorry I didn’t mean to derail dinner.”

“It’s okay, it probably needed to cool a bit anyway,” Blaine says. “And I could stand to have an appetizer like that every day.” He lays his hands flat on the counter but he doesn’t quite stand up. It takes him a foggy few seconds to realize Kurt is looking at the dishcloth, and considering it. “If you think for a minute you are going to clean me up with that dishrag we will be in divorce court tomorrow.” He holds out one hand palm up…

…and a clean, damp, warm washcloth appears in his hand. Kurt laughs and takes it from Blaine. “Aren’t you convenient?”

“I hope I’m a little more than convenient, honey,” Blaine says with a grin before he stands and pulls up his briefs. He kicks off his pants and picks them up off the floor and then wanders into the bedroom, while Kurt cleans up the mess they made.

When Blaine returns he’s wearing sweats and a plain white t-shirt and Salem is following him, winding herself around Blaine’s ankles as he walks. He looks rumpled and relaxed and Kurt is tempted to drag him directly to bed; but then he notices how carefully Blaine has set their tiny kitchen table for dinner, and decides that further debauchery can wait.

“Blaine this is gorgeous,” Kurt tells him, taking a seat. Blaine has gone all out. A bowl filled with a crunchy green salad sits next to the quiche and a basket filled with crusty bread sits on the windowsill adjacent to the table. Blaine has laid out his plain white Ikea dishes on a navy linen tablecloth along with ice filled water glasses. A bottle of white wine sits in an ice bucket next to the bread.

“I know you won’t always be home for dinner this early,” Blaine says, ducking his head as he shrugs off the compliment. “It’s our first real dinner together, married, in our home. I wanted it to be special.”

“Oh god, and I just mauled you.” Kurt frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t exactly mind, Kurt.” Blaine wriggles in his chair.

Kurt serves them both salad and slices of quiche. It’s quiet enough to be almost awkward as they start eating. As if they’ve both suddenly realized that marriage is supposed to be forever.

"So, um, good thinking to stock the kitchen drawer," Kurt says, digging into his salad with a little smirk. Blaine looks at him, his mouth twisted in a question. Kurt fills in the blank. "Condoms?"

Blaine's face registers what Kurt means, but then he looks a little sheepish. "I, um, yeah about that? It wasn’t me. Well, it sort of was me but I didn’t put anything in the drawer. It’s bewitched."

Kurt looks up at Blaine. "What?"

"Yeah. When I was learning to cook I got tired of never having the right stupid gadgets. So I put a spell on the drawer so it would give me whatever I was thinking about when I opened it, so long as it was something you could use in the kitchen.” Blaine stops and laughs. “All things considered I suppose, according to the terms of the spell, condoms and lube fit the requirement. At least tonight.”

“Anything?” Kurt turns wide eyes on Blaine.

Blaine nods. “So long as it fits in the drawer.”

Kurt stares at Blaine for a long second then stands and takes the one step to the drawer. He closes his eyes and thinks. Just this afternoon he was browsing the gadget section at Williams-Sonoma's website, contemplating all the things he'll never be putting on a wedding registry, and opens the drawer…

…and inside is a the sleek Cuisipro apple corer he saw online. It’s not a particularly expensive item, but Kurt is sure he’s never seen it in Blaine’s drawer before. He closes the drawer and thinks about the citrus spritzer he refrained from buying last week, because it seemed like something that would be cool to use once, and opens the drawer again to find one sitting right on top of all of the other tools. He shakes his head once and sits back down at the table.

“How did I never notice that?”

“Why would you have noticed? You’ve only cooked here a few times—“

“I have cooked here at least a half dozen times since we started dating Blaine.”

“Okay, but still. You wouldn’t have been expecting a magic drawer, Kurt. I’ve found that people often don’t notice things they aren’t expecting. It’s why most people don’t notice witches generally.” Blaine is watching Kurt carefully.

Kurt shakes his head, sparing a glance at the drawer. “This is still going to take some getting used to.”

“I know,” Blaine says, wiping his mouth on his napkin. “And I know it seems like I’m using a lot of magic, compared to what you’re used to, since what you’re used to is nothing.” Blaine smiles and Kurt can’t help but smile back at him. “But I promise that I really don’t do magic very often Kurt, and if it makes the transition easier I will be extra careful not to do any, not without warning you first. Okay?” Blaine tilts his head so he can catch Kurt’s eye, but Kurt is shaking his head.

“I don’t want you to not be who you are just because it will take some getting used to for me. I already feel bad that you had to— _hide_ —from me.” Kurt frowns.

“ _Kurt_ —no, no it wasn’t like that. At least, I don’t feel that I was hiding before. You know me. Being a witch, magic, it’s part of me, sure, but it’s not all of who I am. At least not to me.”

Kurt’s mouth is a straight line as he contemplates what Blaine is saying. He really doesn’t want Blaine to feel like he has to keep himself in check—that seems like the wrong way to start a marriage, even their somewhat unusual one. But he knows it will take some getting used to, as much the unexpectedness of it as anything.

“Okay,” he says after a minute. “But promise me that you won’t, I don’t know, not be who you are? Hold yourself back? At least not from me.”

“I won’t Kurt.” Blaine nods earnestly. “I promise.”

“I do have to ask though, are there any other semi-sentient household items I should be on the lookout for?”

“Um, yes?” Kurt laughs and Blaine shrugs, looking guilty. “The spice cabinet? Another case of never seeming to have what I needed.” Kurt keeps giggling until Blaine eventually joins him, and the uneasiness Kurt felt earlier disappears.

They finish dinner, each of them trading stories about their day and how everyone reacted to the news that they had gotten married. Kurt lets Blaine know that his boss, Isabelle, is insisting on throwing them a post-wedding-shower/dinner party at her apartment on the Upper East Side on Friday night, if Blaine doesn’t have other plans.

“I don’t,” Blaine confirms. “But she really doesn’t have to do that.”

The idea of it actually frightens Blaine just a little. He and Kurt hadn’t been dating very long and they really hadn’t met many of each other’s friends. Now that they’re married he wouldn’t mind some time to settle into their relationship before he starts to meet everyone in Kurt’s life. He’s not entirely sure that everyone will be happy for them.

“Oh, I know and I told her the same thing,” Kurt says as he stands to clear the table. “But Isabelle can be a bit of a tyrant when it comes to celebrating major milestones. Or minor ones, for that matter. Last year she chartered a bus and took her entire department to Great Adventure when her assistant turned 21. A dinner party actually seems pretty restrained for her.”

Blaine laughs at that. He isn’t going to say no if it’s something Kurt wants to happen. “Okay. I think I can accept a dinner party.”

Once the kitchen is clean and the leftovers are put away Kurt tugs Blaine into his arms for a kiss. “Thank you for dinner.”

Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist and pulls him close. “You are very welcome.”

“So, husband, what did you have planned for our first real evening alone as married men?”

“Honestly? It’s been a bit of a crazy couple of days. I feel like a mess, and I’m exhausted. I would love to take a shower and then curl up on the couch. Maybe watch a movie or some bad TV, if that’s alright with you?”

Kurt leans in, kissing him again. “That sounds perfect. Would you like some company in the shower?”

“Mmmm, yes please.”

They shower (with only a little distraction) then settle on the couch in front of a movie, Salem settling in a furry lump on arm of the couch, near Blaine. Unsurprisingly, the combination of exhaustion and the lack of sleep and three days of adrenaline spikes catches up with them. Kurt is asleep before the opening credits. Blaine manages to last ten whole minutes longer.

\--

They both feel more rested on Tuesday, and their life starts to slip back into the routine they had when they were dating—the main difference being Kurt always comes home to Blaine’s apartment now. _Their apartment_. Blaine has music lessons to teach, and Kurt has late photo spreads to chase, but it starts to feel less new and more normal each day.

Thursday evening they meet at Kurt’s apartment and drag back the bulk of Kurt’s wardrobe, including one entire suitcase full of accessories that are neither socks or underwear. 

“I really am going to have to TARDIS the closet,” Blaine murmurs to himself as they stack the suitcases, suit bags, a small duffle, and a hatbox. “What is in here?” He asks, but lifts the lid without waiting for Kurt’s answer. “You own a top hat?”

Kurt appears at Blaine’s shoulder and pucks the hat out of the box, setting it on his head.

“I own a top hat. I rented a tux in high school for my senior prom, but I really wanted a top hat I could keep so I bought it.” Kurt poses for Blaine, flipping a hand in the air near the hat. “What do you think?”

Blaine grins, looking Kurt over with interest before pulling him into a kiss. “Gorgeous. You should wear it tomorrow.”

Kurt laughs at the suggestion, giving him a slightly incredulous look as he puts the hat back in the box. “These people work for Vogue Blaine. And one of them is my boss. A top hat is not appropriate dinner party wear, unless that diner party is a formal function, of course.”

“Oh.” Blaine frowns and pulls away from Kurt, walking toward the bedroom.

“Blaine? What’s wrong?” Kurt has no idea how things went from flirty to gloomy so quickly, so he follows.

Kurt is relieved when he finds Blaine sitting on the bed, the look on his face more unsure than upset. He’s opened the closet doors and is staring inside.

“You’re not worried about the space, are you? I can put some of my stuff in storage, or leave it in suitcases for a while,” Kurt offers. “It’s probably time I weeded some stuff out anyway—“

“No, Kurt, that’s not it at all.” Blaine waves a hand toward the closet and Kurt watches as it folds and expands back with no visible back wall into endless closet space. “There is plenty of room for your clothes.”

Kurt’s mouth hangs open for a moment. “I don’t even want to know how that works.”

Blaine laughs at that, but his smile isn’t the big grin that Kurt loves. The one with the squinty eyes and scrunched up nose that Kurt knows means that Blaine is happy and relaxed.

“Kurt, you work for Vogue. I dress like a schoolteacher. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your co-workers.”

“Oh my god, Blaine, no. You would never do that.” Kurt laughs, hoping Blaine knows it’s not at him. “First of all, they may be my friends and co-workers, and they may all work at Vogue, but they are just as ridiculous as any human beings anywhere else.” That gets a smile out of Blaine, so Kurt goes on, sitting on the bed next to him and putting his arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “You could never embarrass me. And you have amazing style that’s all you. You always look great.”

“Okay, but I do think you may be biased.” Blaine says, laying his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “Crisis over for now. Ready for dinner?”

“Did you cook again?”

Blaine pats Kurt on the thigh and stands. “I did. Nothing fancy, really.”

‘Nothing fancy’ turned out to be a roasted vegetable pizza Blaine had made earlier that had been warming in the oven, along with a grilled chicken Caesar salad he tossed while Kurt was setting the table.

“Blaine this is amazing, again,” Kurt tells him as they sit. “I’m really starting to feel like a slacker husband.”

Blaine swallows a bite of pizza, laughing. “Why?”

“You make breakfast every morning, you make dinner every night,” Kurt waved at the dishes on the table. “And a nice dinner too, not just peanut butter and a bag of chips. Which is what we’d have if I had to feed us after work.”

“ _Kurt_. I get up before you because I have to leave earlier than you. And I get home earlier than you most days.” Blaine reaches across the table and takes Kurt’s hand. “And I like to do it. Besides, it hasn’t even been a week. You cooked for me before we lived together. There will be plenty of opportunity for you to cook for us, I promise.” 

Kurt pouts a little, but he knows it’s true. And it _has_ only been four days. “I suppose. I don’t know, some days I wake up and it feels like we’ve always been together, you know? But I’m still trying to figure out the routine.”

Blaine nods. “I get that.”

“I want to do things for you too.” 

“It’s not a contest Kurt,” Blaine assures him. “We’re in this together.” He pauses for a minute then goes on. “But there is something you can do for me after dinner.” Blaine wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh really Mr. Anderson?” Kurt smirks. “Does this at all involve you getting naked? Because I’m sure I can help you with that.”

“If you play your cards right it might. I’d love it if you could help me pick out something to wear tomorrow night? So I don’t freak out too much.”

Kurt’s eyes go wide with excitement and he pushes the thoughts of his naked husband aside (although not far off to the side). “Yes! Yes, I would love to.”

Blaine grins the big, happy grin that Kurt loves.


	4. Chapter 3b

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first outside test of their marriage comes at Kurt's boss's dinner party...

Blaine definitely does not want to arrive at Isabelle’s apartment without Kurt, so they make plans to meet at a bar a few blocks away so Kurt can ease his worries about the evening. Kurt is waiting at the bar with a drink ready for Blaine when he shows up.

“Mmmmm, you look gorgeous.” Kurt kisses him when he sits on the barstool. Kurt had gone into Blaine’s closet last night and spent all of 6 minutes looking through it before pulling out Blaine’s black watch-plaid Brooks Brother’s suit and pairing it with a pale blue shirt with a contrasting white collar. Blaine opted to add one of his favorite bow ties, a pale yellow one with planets embroidered on it, when Kurt nixed a sweater vest. “I’m almost tempted to drag you home and get you out of that now that I see how good it looks on you.”

“Maybe we should? I mean, do you really think this is such a good idea? It could wait a week or two, right?" Blaine fidgets with his cuffs until Kurt covers his hands with his own to stop him.

"Honey, it'll be fine. They're nice people and I've been talking about you non-stop for a month, so it's not like they don't know anything about you," Kurt says. It doesn't really help. "Besides, we're supposed to be there in fifteen minutes, it's a little late to postpone."

Blaine inhales deeply and steels himself for what's to come, and swallows his drink in three gulps while Kurt stares. It'll be fine. Kurt knows these people. It's just a party, right?

\--

It's almost fine. The crowd is small enough, a dozen people or so, and the apartment is huge. There’s a cocktail hour in the living room, and Blaine can see a wraparound terrace out the open bay doors so he moves closer to look. The view of New York City is stunning and romantic. He thinks maybe he should drag Kurt out there later.

Kurt introduces Blaine to Kurt's boss Isabelle and her husband Lawrence, a few co-workers, and a senior editor that has been mentoring Kurt. They are polite and congratulatory and say nice things about Kurt, so Blaine relaxes a bit. He introduces Blaine to one of the models that Kurt has been working with for a few years. Blaine thinks his name is Sam.

When Kurt is pulled away by Isabelle to discuss some upholstering crisis she’s been having with her decorator, Blaine finds himself alone for a moment. He's considering heading to the temporary bar to get a drink, but he's cut off by a model-type guy in an expensive suit.

“So you're Kurt’s shiny new boy-toy?” 

“What? No I--” Blaine tried to protest but the guy cuts him off.

“I'm Sebastian,” he says. And winks. Blaine tries not to recoil as he shakes the man’s hand. Sebastian who takes Kurt out for drinks and who, Blaine thinks, spends too much time with his husband. “I'm sure Kurt’s mentioned me?”

“Um, a couple of times,” Blaine answers. He feels a little uncomfortable. Actually meeting Sebastian has not really put him any more at ease than when he was just hearing about him occasionally.

“Great, great. Awesome.” Sebastian puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder and leans closer, his mouth near Blaine's ear. “You know, I can tell by the way you’re wearing those pants that you’ve got an amazing ass. When this thing with Kurt runs its course you should give me a call.” Blaine is too stunned to say anything, but he follows Sebastian’s sight line to where Kurt is standing talking to Isabelle. “Or maybe before.” 

Blaines mouth hangs open while he tries to verbalized the thousand reasons he would never call Sebastian for anything, but he disappears before Blaine can get any words out. 

He's still standing, wondering if he should tell Kurt what happened now or wait until they get home, when Sam the Model comes up and reintroduces himself.

“Nice tie,” Sam says.

“Thanks.” Blaine manners kick in, and Sam seems friendly enough. He’s also kind of hot.

“So Kurt’s cool, it’s cool you guys are married. You know, that you can get married now. And everything.” Sam makes kind of an awkward motion in the air and Blaine isn’t really sure what to think, but Sam seems sincere so he rolls with it.

“Yeah, it is cool, thank you,” he says. He’s not sure what models talk about. Probably not the same thing as kindergarten teachers. “Um, so you’re a model?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I guess. I mean I seem to get a lot of work so I guess I’m a model.” Sam fidgets some half-shrug motion and Blaine isn’t entirely sure where this conversation is going. “I was really just wondering if you liked science fiction, you know, because of the tie.” Sam points at Blaine’s tie again.

“Oh! Um, yeah I do.”

“Great! Because it’s great working with all these fashion people, you know, all the clothes and everything, but they can be a little obsessed with that they think is cool,” Sam says, putting up finger quotes when he says the word cool.

Sam continues on about how hard it is to find other like-minded people to hang out with in his business, and they keep talking and discover a shared love of Star Wars and X-Men comics, and Sam seems really interested when Blaine tells him all about the kids in his kindergarten class. Blaine is more than a little relieved to find someone in Kurt’s crowd of people that he can talk to, but after a while Sam excuses himself.

“I’m gonna use the john before Isabelle makes us sit down for dinner. You know, it’s great that Kurt’s with you now instead of that guy.” Sam nods across the room, and sees Kurt in a conversation with Sebastian and two people whose names he doesn’t remember. “I have no idea what Kurt saw in him. He’s a tool.” Before Blaine can ask Sam what he’s talking about he walks away.

Blaine stands by himself, watching and wondering why Kurt didn’t tell him that he used to date Sebastian. Kurt had to know that he’d be here tonight, couldn’t he have warned him?

At some point Isabelle and her husband corner Blaine, Isabelle wanting to hear Blaine's version of how he and Kurt met, and how they got married so quickly. Blaine sticks to the story he and Kurt decided on. It’s simple enough that there isn’t a lot of room for details that won’t match up with whatever Kurt may have already told them. This is good for Blaine right now because he can’t decide whether or not to be angry at Kurt and he doesn’t think he can manage any trick questions.

A few other people come over to talk to Isabelle, and the conversation moves on. Blaine stays in their little group half listening, but mostly watching Sebastian touch Kurt’s arm, and then his elbow. At one point during the conversation he actually puts an arm around Kurt’s shoulders. Blaine can’t really see how Kurt is reacting to any of this, but he’s not moving away or doing anything to stop it. Blaine is pretty sure that if Kurt turned around in that moment he’d be able to see actual steam coming out of Blaine’s ears.

Blaine is about to walk over and join Kurt’s conversation, feeling an overwhelming need to stake his claim on his husband, when the head waiter calls out for everyone to sit down so they can serve dinner. Blaine takes a deep breath and decides he can simply ask Kurt about it later. He knows he doesn’t have anything to worry about. He’s just caught a little off-guard by the news that Kurt actually used to date this jerk with no respect for personal boundaries. Blaine turns to catch Kurt’s eye as he enters the dining room, but instead catches Sebastian moving his hand down to Kurt’s ass and squeezing it once before he walks away.

When he gets to the table he discovers that there are assigned seats, and Kurt is across rather than next to him. He’s not happy about it, because he really can’t ask Kurt to explain anything from across the table. He looks up when Kurt sits, and Kurt’s smile looks a little forced, but before he can say anything to him, Sebastian pulls out the chair next to Kurt’s and leans down to say something in Kurt’s ear that Blaine can’t hear, resting his hand on Kurt’s shoulder. Blaine can actually see him squeeze it.

And that is all Blaine can take. He stares at Sebastian and starts tapping on the stem of his water glass—tap-tap-tap pushing it a nearly undetectable amount forward….

….and when Sebastian finally sits down his ass hits the edge of his chair, the chair flies backward and hits the wall behind him, and he hits the ground with a thud, an undignified screech rising up from his location on the floor. There is mild chaos as everyone stands to see what happened, but Blaine just picks up his water glass and takes a sip, feeling a tiny bit better.

“I don’t know what happened there,” Sebastian says when he finally rights himself and sits in his place at the table. “I must have pulled the chair out further than I thought.” Sebastian is glancing around at the guests sitting closest to him.

Blaine just hums, and Kurt catches his eye again, so he smiles this time. He’s not sure that he’s not still irritated at Kurt, but they can talk about it later.

“Are you alright?” Kurt mouths at him quietly. There are waiters moving around pouring champagne in everyone’s glasses.

Blaine nods. “I’m fine. It’s just a lot of people I don’t know.”

“Attention everyone!” Isabelle interrupts from the head of the very long table, glass of champagne in hand. “I just wanted to thank everyone for coming on such short notice, and to scold Kurt for running off to get married without telling anyone, so we couldn’t throw him a party.” She looks at Kurt and shakes her head, but it’s a playful gesture.

“And Blaine, thank you for coming to meet all of us. I’m sure it must be overwhelming to be thrown into meeting so many new people all at once, but we are so happy that Kurt has found someone, and we all look forward to seeing you more often and getting to know you as well as we know Kurt. Congratulations to both of you.” Everyone toasts.

Dinner is served in several courses, and wine is poured with every new course. Thankfully Sam is sitting next to Blaine so he at least has someone to make small talk with. Blaine doesn’t really feel like getting drunk anymore, so he only drinks about half of his wine each time, sticking with water. Kurt spends time talking to the woman seated on his left, who Blaine finds out is an art director named Marley. Blaine has managed to keep any interaction with Sebastian to a minimum, but that ends when plates are being cleared after the third course.

“So Blaine, Kurt tells us you're a schoolteacher?” Isabelle asks as the waiters are setting plates of crispy shrimp in front of everyone.

“Yes, I teach kindergarten at a school in Brooklyn. Not far from where we live.” 

Blaine is pretty sure Sebastian actually scoffs. “Isn’t that cute.”

Blaine raises and eyebrow. “It has its moments. But it can be quite challenging most days, between dealing with the kids and their parents expectations.”

“I’m sure chasing a gaggle of five year olds around takes a lot out of you, but I’m not sure what could be so challenging about it. It’s not like you’re teaching them anything at that age.”

Blaine manages to hold in his temper, but only just barely. “Of course we are. Aside from the obvious things like reading and writing, it’s a great age to start teaching children how to work and play well with others, how to have and show empathy. These are important things too.”

Sebastian is about to say something more, but the waiter leans over between him and Kurt to set down the next plate. Blaine blinks and scratches his head just above his ear….

….and the waiter’s cufflink gets caught in Sebastian’s hair, and as the waiter steps away he drags Sebastian’s head with him for the few seconds it takes them both to notice. Sebastian lets out another shriek and grabs at his hair with one hand. His other grabs the table, shaking it until several water glasses spill and everyone jumps out of their seats. As the waiter reaches for his cufflink to untangle it, Blaine stops scratching and wiggles his nose and the waiter pulls his arm free.

“Hey everyone,” Isabelle’s voice rises above the din. “Why don’t we take a ten minute break and everyone can freshen up before we get to the main.” The guests stand and stretch, and Isabelle directs a few toward the bathroom before she moves to check on Sebastian.

Blaine picks up his wine glass and steps away from the table, but Kurt is standing right behind his chair.

“Can I talk to you privately?” He hisses, low enough so no one else can hear. Kurt wraps his hand around Blaine’s elbow and tugs him away from where everyone is mingling. “I saw that. What the hell was that Blaine?”

“He had his hand on your ass Kurt,” Blaine spits back. “What was that about?”

Kurt sputters and backs down a notch. “You saw that?”

“And he’s your ex? You brought me to a dinner party with your smarmy ex-boyfriend and you didn’t even warn me?” Blaine is fuming. 

“I—who told you?” Kurt at least had the decency to look chagrined at that.

“Sam!” Blaine hisses under his breath.

Kurt swears under his breath. “Look I am sorry about that. I thought it would be too overwhelming to mention it going into the party. That you might not want to come.”

“So, what, you thought blindsiding me was a better idea?”

“No, I just—it’s not like it was serious or he was my boyfriend or anything like that. It—” Kurt stops when he looks at Blaine’s face, which at this point is a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion. Kurt sighs, knowing he’ll never win this argument. “It was more like a booty-call.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long, Kurt?”

Kurt rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, exhaling. “Four months.”

“Awesome.” Blaine would pace but there’s really no place to go. “Fantastic. You shag this—“

“ _Shag_ , Blaine?”

“Screw—“

Kurt throws his hands in the air. “Ugh.”

“Fine. You _fuck_ this hot, weasel-faced, fashion tool for four months and he’s still all over you after you're _married_? Did you even actually actually break things off?”

“Meerkat.”

“What?”

“Not a weasel. Meerkat. We call him the Meerkat. Because he has a face like a meerkat.”

Blaine stares at Kurt.

“Yes! Yes. I called it off. Forever ago. But he’s handsy. I honestly thought he’d behave here.”

“God, Kurt.” Blaine spins in a little circle of frustration. “Is he in the bathroom? Maybe I can make the toilet flush out. Cover him in his own pee.”

Kurt stares off toward the hall toward the bathroom, shaking his head. “He might actually like that.”

“What?”

Kurt waves off his last statement. “Never mind.” He turns back to face Blaine. “Honey, look. He’s an asshole. We all know it. He’s also an excellent sales guy and brings in a ton of money for the web site and that’s hard to do in this market. We all just tolerate him.” Kurt rubs a hand up and down Blaine’s arm, over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s finish dinner and get home and I can show you how much I would rather be with you than any other man anywhere, okay?”

“He hit on me.” Blaine is standing with his jacket open, hands on his hips.

“What?”

“Yeah, _Kurt_ , he suggested that when you were through with me I should give him a call. In fact he insinuated very clearly that I didn't even have to wait that long if I didn't want to.”

“That weasel!” Kurt turns around, obviously looking to find Sebastian.

“Uh huh.” Blaine agrees. “So should I?”

“What? Should you what?”

“GIve him a call? Or should I wait for this thing with you to run its course?” Blaine is visibly upset, and Kurt doesn’t think they should go back to the dining room quite yet. He doesn’t want Sebastian to see that he’s gotten to him. Or to them.

Kurt pushes Blaine out of the open doors and onto the terrace, distress on his face. 

“Blaine, baby, please no. First of all, I will never be through with you, ever. Second, I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking but stop thinking it. I love you. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, to--I don’t know--piss me off. To cause trouble because he can.” Kurt puts his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, steadying them both and Blaine grips Kurt’s hips in return. “There is no course to run Blaine. You’re mine.” Kurt kisses him on his forehead, his cheek, the finally on his lips. “And I’m yours. Okay?”

Blaine nods and sways into Kurt, and Kurt opens his mouth to accept the kiss Blaine offers. 

“Mine,” Blaine says into his mouth. “You’re mine Kurt.” Blaine grips him tighter as he lays open mouthed kisses across Kurt’s jaw and nibbles on his neck.

“Careful,” Kurt gasps. “You’re going to, _ahh_ , leave a mark.”

“I’m gonna leave a lot of marks,” Blaine growls, just before biting, sucking with purpose just below Kurt’s ear. “No one’s gonna wonder about anything.” He rubs his knuckles over Kurt’s already half-hard dick where it’s pressing against his pants and it’s all Kurt can do to keep his knees from buckling.

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt whines. But Blaine doesn’t stop until Kurt is completely erect, and then he lays his palm flat against the straining fabric of Kurt’s dress pants and squeezes and strokes until Kurt is a panting mess. “ _Blaine_ , I can’t--we can’t here--my _boss_.” 

Blaine chuckles, sucking a mark into Kurt’s shoulder while he unbuckles his belt and pulls Kurt’s shirt out of the waistband of his pants.

“We can, Kurt.” Blaine thumbs open the button, slides down the zipper. “We can do anything, no one’s going to hear.” Blaine grips Kurt’s pants and briefs together and pushes them down around his thighs. Kurt’s cock bobs and juts out in front of him and Blaine wraps a warm hand around it, pumping slowly. “Honestly Kurt, I could lay you on your belly and fuck you on the dining room table and not one of them would see, if that’s something you want to do. But we’d know they were there.” Blaine undoes his own pants and only shifts his own clothes off far enough to pull his cock out, then wraps one arm around Kurt and pulls him closer.

Blaine leans against a large planter, then snaps his fingers. A condom and a travel size tube of lube appear in the palm of his hand. Kurt groans and leans forward, kissing Blaine hard and dirty. 

“ _Yes please_ ,” he says. Blaine turns him around and teases one lubed finger around Kurt’s hole, already clenching in anticipation. It doesn’t take long before he’s ready for a second then a third. Blaine takes his time with three, pushing and twisting until Kurt’s rim is stretched and Blaine can push in without resistance. “Blaine, now, _please_ ,” Kurt begs, and Blaine can’t wait. He slips on the condom and guides the head of his cock between Kurt’s cheeks, gripping and spreading them open as Kurt sits on his cock.

It takes no time, Kurt wants Blaine and wants his cock and he bottoms out, panting. 

“How do you want--” Blaine pants into Kurt’s back, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“Put your hand on my dick,” Kurt growls. Blaine wraps his hand around Kurt and Kurt starts moving, back onto Blaine’s cock, pushing into his hand, fucking and being fucked. Blaine’s lays a steadying hand on his back. It’s not enough. 

“Kurt, Kurt I need--” Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt again, holding him close and spinning him around so he’s facing the planter and Kurt’s hands grip the edge reflexively.

“Huh, uhh,” Kurt grunts, but Blaine has what he wants now. He pours the rest of the lube on his cock and pushes back into Kurt, bending over his back with one hand wrapped around Kurt’s chest and the other around his dick. After a few slow strokes he lets go, his pelvis slapping against Kurt’s ass until he just can’t stop and he comes, pressing as deep into Kurt as he can, his hand flying over Kurt until he comes too, spurting over Blaine’s knuckles and onto the stone floor of his boss’s terrace.

Blaine is gripping the planter too now, leaning over Kurt's back.

“Honey you're getting heavy,” Kurt finally says.

“Yeah, okay, yeah,” Blaine stands, carefully pulling out so Kurt can stand up. 

“We’re a mess Blaine.”

Blaine nods. “Give me a second.” Blaine peels off the condom, tossing it into the planter. Kurt is about to protest, but Blaine wiggles his nose in a way that simultaneously the least and most sexy thing Kurt has ever seen, and the sticky hands, the used condom, the puddle of jizz on the terrace all disappear.

“Again, honey, that's a very handy skill,” Kurt observes.

Blaine laughs and finishes tucking himself back into his underwear and putting himself back together. When he's done he helps Kurt dress, pulling up his briefs and tucking his now soft cock into them and pulling up his pants. Kurt rests his arms across Blaine’s shoulders as Blaine tucks Kurt's shirt in, zipping him up and fastening his belt.

“We should get back in,” Kurt says, kissing Blaine quickly but pulling him closer rather than moving away.

“Yeah I think there’s a meat course next or something,” Blaine says, turning his head to look toward the dining room.

“Oh I think we’ve already had our meat co--”

“Oh my god no, no don’t.” Blaine is cackling. “I love you,” he says, tilting his head up for a kiss. It's long and slow and still going when they hear a noise from the terrace entry.

“Kurt? Blaine? Are you out here?” It's Isabelle, and they are still wrapped in each other when she comes around the planter. “Ah ha! I figured as much. When Lawrence and I first got married we were always sneaking away to make out in the corner. Come on back before things get out of hand.” 

They have the decency to look a little embarrassed, but can’t help giggling when she walks away.

“Oh my god Blaine,” Kurt whispers. “I can’t believe we didn’t get caught.”

Blaine smacks one last kiss on Kurt’s mouth, then presses his lips to his ear. “We don’t ever have to get caught.”

“I had no idea you were such an exhibitionist when I married you,” Kurt says, taking Blaine’s hand as then walk back into the dining room.

“I don’t know that I was before you.” Blaine wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

When they rejoin the party, Kurt convinces Sam to switch places with him so he can sit next to his husband for the rest of the meal. The next course does turn out to be meat (pork medallions) and talk turns to what Kurt and Blaine plan to do for their honeymoon.

“We haven’t planned anything yet,” Kurt says. “Although I do think my dad will insist we come to Ohio for a few days so he can meet Blaine.”

“You haven’t met Kurt’s family?” Isabelle asks.

Blaine shakes his head. “No, we kind of got caught up in each other. Kurt hasn’t met my family yet either.”

“Well you know Kurt, I do have a pied-à-terre in Paris you are welcome to if you decide to go away on a real honeymoon.” Isabelle is smiling and Blaine can tell she is happy to be able to make the offer.

“That’s really very generous of you, Isabelle. Thank you for the offer,” Blaine says.

“Kurt,” Sebastian interrupts, smarmy smirk back in place. “Remember when we took that trip to the Riviera, what was it, two years ago?”

Kurt tenses next to Blaine. “It was a work trip, Sebastian. And yes I do remember.” Blaine starts fiddling with his wine glass, idly rubbing his index finger along one inch of the rim, back and forth. 

“You didn’t want to leave the hotel--”

“The _spa_ was fantastic,” Kurt explains. His answer is terse, but Blaine can hear the wistful longing when he says ‘spa.’

Blaine watches carefully as Sebastian lifts his wine glass. “You two should go back there.” 

Blaine hasn’t stopped rubbing his finger along the rim of his glass the entire time Sebastian is speaking, and when he finally puts the glass to his lips…

...red wine spills down the front of his shirt, into his lap, and all over his suit-that-costs-more-than-Blaine-makes-in-a-month. 

For the third time that night everyone pushes back from the table, listening to Sebastian curse and trying their best to avoid being caught in any messy fallout. 

When Kurt turns to face his husband, Blaine is sipping from his own glass, his eyes wide and innocent. Kurt shakes his head, but Blaine can see that he’s holding back a smirk. 

“What am I going to do with you?” Kurt whispers, and Blaine’s feigned-innocent look takes a turn toward the suggestive.

The party breaks up not long after that, with Isabelle offering Sebastian a change of clothes so he doesn’t have to sit in his ruined, wine-soaked suit.

Later, in the cab on their way back to Brooklyn, Kurt leans into Blaine, resting his head on his shoulder.

“He is right about one thing, you know.”

Blaine is sleepy from the ride and the steady intake of alcohol all night, even if he didn’t drink enough to get drunk. “Hmmmm? Who?”

“Sebastian.”

“He’s a jerk.”

“You know I think it’s cute that you’re jealous,” Kurt teases, but Blaine pouts anyway. “But your ass does look amazing in those pants.”

\--

Kurt has no idea how long the doorbell has been ringing, but now there’s knocking too. He’s not hungover after last night, not from alcohol anyway. But he’s tired as hell and wants to spend the day in bed with his still new husband. Maybe order breakfast from the deli and watch reality TV all day.

He pushes his leg between Blaine's knees and burrows his nose against his neck, smooshing his lips against Blaine’s skin while he mumbles.

“We jus’ got married. No’ne can leave us’lone? Time 'sit?" 

"Dunno." Blaine tucks himself further into Kurt's arms and Kurt can't help smiling. "Too early for you to be drooling on my neck like that."

"Mmmm somewhere else you'd like me to drool?" He nips at the back of Blaine’s neck and grinds his half hard dick against Blaine's ass.

"I think that sounded better in your head, Kurt—" The doorbell rings again. Several times.

"What is wrong with Brooklyn, Blaine? Who is ringing the bell at 9am on Saturday?"

"Probably the Jehovah’s Witnesses. The neighborhood is crawling with them. If you don't answer they'll go away." 

So Kurt doesn't answer and the knocking stops. Two minutes later his phone starts vibrating on the bedside table. Sighing with a mix of frustration and exasperation Kurt gives in and rolls over to reach his phone. He tries not to go into shock when he sees the message.

"Oh _shit_ ," he hisses, wide awake now and pulling on his yoga pants and a shirt from the top of their laundry pile that turns out to be one of Blaine jogging tanks. He pulls it over his head as he skids down the hall. When he opens the door he stares at the couple on the other side for a full minute before he can speak.

"Dad! Carole! What are you doing here?"

END

 

**Come back next time for “One Big Happy Family”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to cover as many events that occur in the Bewitched pilot as I could, and I think I managed to create the setting I want. Hopefully it worked for you too!
> 
> I do have a couple of things planned, but I am definitely open to prompts in this verse, of either the Bewitched or Kurt/Blaine variety. Just know I'll take them and do what I want with them. :D Message me here or on tumblr at notarelationship.tumblr.com


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